Twilight Doom
by Lady Librarian
Summary: The Wall is breeched! But Howl is paralyzed by grief. And what of the prophecy? Can the wizard’s family rally to save the mortal world? Join the cast of Howl's Moving Castle once more in Part III of the Wallmaker Saga.
1. Chapter 1: Dusk

Hello everyone! 

This is the first chapter of the third part of the Wallmaker Series. I recommend you read the first part, _Beyond the Indigo Veil_, and the second part, _Children of the _Stars, before reading the following story.

I just want to take a moment and thank everyone for their wonderful reviews and comments. I have a beta reader now who has so graciously offered to help me edit and read through the first bits. This chapter is for you Skitz!

Thanks again for reading!

Lady Librarian .

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Twilight Doom: Part III of the Wallmaker Saga**

**Chapter 1: Dusk**

Markl stared at the ceiling of his room, the wind chimes overhead tinkled and spun in the gentle wind that filtered in from the May morning outside. The view from his window looked out into a sea of clouds. The great fluffy ones on the horizon moved lazily whereas wisps of mist and spray closest to the sill swept in and then fled swiftly as the castle sliced through the sky.

It had been two days since Sophie disappeared.

Downstairs the Aunts were holding council, trying to decide what to do with him and his younger brother. Mrs. Fairfax and Granny Witch were also part of their committee, although Lettie's strong voice often ruled over their soft twittering. Grandma Honey was not in attendance. Mrs. Hatter had not been very available to Sophie over the past six years; she was a kind but flighty woman who did not deal well with misfortune. Much like Howl, she tended to ignore anything unpleasant. The tentative mother daughter relationship that began after their reunion before the end of the Mardan War dissolved quickly in her absence. According to his blond aunt, mother Hatter was taking her daughter's disappearance very hard and was made all the more difficult by the woman's many bitter regrets.

The sandy haired apprentice focused on the voices below, and they became crystal clear as though the four women were sitting on the foot of his bed. Markl had the uncanny ability to hear everything that was said downstairs or anywhere in the castle for that matter. He had once tried to chock it up to the acoustics in his room, but it was more than that. He was coming into his magic, Howl had told him not long ago. His master also told him to experiencing strange visions and precognitive dreams in addition to the odd pimple. Lettie's voice drew him back to the conversation below, her brassy tone hard with anger.

"We can't very well leave them here with Howl! He's utterly useless at the moment. I can't believe he punched Barimus square in the nose... What a child!"

Markl recalled the events following the messenger's arrival and the delivery of the sapphire talisman. It had been hard to watch. Thankfully his youngest aunt quickly ushered Theresa and Akarshan out of the room before the eminent fight had broken out.

After the ring refused to answer his magic, Howl had collapsed onto the kitchen table into a motionless state of abject despair. Shocked and dismayed as well, Barimus had attempted to hide his worry and rouse his brother in the worst way possible: by lecturing him. The red wizard, no doubt motivated by the best of intentions, tried to distract Howl from Sophie's disappearance by making appeals to his duty as the last of the Wallmaker line. Unfortunately, he took the absolutely wrong approach to drawing the raven-haired wizard out of his misery induced stupor.

Barimus was an exceedingly charming man capable of the most gentile of conversations. He could smooth talk even royalty when he was in his best form. However, when the red wizard was caught off guard, he became gruff and so brusque that his actions bordered on cruelty. As such, instead of being gentle with his brother, in his most fragile of moments, Barimus attempted to revive Howl by alternately insulted his weakness and demanding that he stand up and help protect Ingary.

Howl's response had been to retreat both mentally and physically. The he attempted to flee the kitchen Barimus blocked the raven haired wizard's way, hounding him persistently. As a result Howl snapped and retaliated violently. In the shouting match that followed the two let loose everything they had been holding for the past six years, blinded by pain and rage. Markl did not care to remember some of the more vicious accusations his master and uncle flung at one another. But he remembered the gist of the argument quite vividly from where he watched from the couch.

Howl had flung the kitchen bench across the room as he slammed his fists onto the table. His blue eyes were on fire with fury and misery as he bellowed at his brother.

"I wanted nothing to do with any of this! But, no! You couldn't let us live our family live in peace. Your precious Wizard's Council has cost me both my daughter and my wife!"

"The council has nothing to do with this Howl!" Barimus shouted back as he got right in his brother's face, "You're acting like an immature little apprentice like usual. You've known for a while what has been going on and you've chosen to ignore it. Be a man for once and stop blaming others for your problems."

"How like you Barimus, defending that gaggle of pompous fools! How long have you been their puppet? Do they pay well for your support? Or is all that power making that's you drunk and sloppy?"

"Why you ungrateful little ass," Barimus sputtered, going pale with rage as he chased his brother around the table pointing an accusatory finger at the retreating wizard.

"You! You shackled me with the Royal Wizard position, you selfish brat. And it has brought me nothing but suffering! Do you think I like being up at night till all hours settling the squabbling of petty wizards while Martha waits for me alone in the dark? Remember that I too have lost a child and very nearly my wife!" Barimus had thundered back, continuing blindly without a thought for what he was saying.

"Sophie is gone because of your own indecision and inaction, Howl," the red wizard spat back venomously, "The only person you have to blame for your loss is yourself!"

This rang all too true for Howl. He went white with shock as though his brother had just slapped him, eyes wide with anguish. The raven haired man collapsed onto the other kitchen bench and hid his face in his hands, his shoulder's shaking as he sobbed silently. Seeing his brother crumble into wretchedness seemed to bring Barimus back to his senses. He gaped like a fish in astonishment. The royal wizard seemed to sag under the weight of contrition and mortification as he realized what he had just said. The red wizard reached gently out to his brother.

"Howl," he spoke in a voice gruff with sorrow. But his apprentice brother answered by punching Barimus square in the nose. Howl fled upstairs as the red wizard reeled back against the wall holding his bloody nose.

Markl's memories were snatched away as he was drawn back to the conversation by the voice of his seldom spoken youngest aunt.

"Barimus deserved it," was Martha's stony reply.

"They both need a swift kick in the pants," Lettie fumed in agreement, "But honestly, I don't know how you put up with your husband, Martha! You nearly died! And where is your wizard? Off in the capital while you clean up after his family,"

"Barimus has many obligations, Lettie," the hedge witch's voice was dangerous, although her tone was even, "You should not begrudge him his duty to protect Ingary."

"Oh, drat. I didn't mean to upset you Martha," the caterer's voice was harsh with embarrassment, "I'm just out of sorts right now."

"This is a difficult time for all of us, dears," Mrs. Fairfax cut into the conversation in a gently admonishing tone, "Don't be so hard on the wizards. After all Barimus is under a lot of stress and Howl just lost his wife,"

"You don't know that!" Calcifer's impassioned voice cut through the conversation. The little fire daemon snapped and popped as he stalwartly rejected the old herbalist's previous statement, "There is no indication that Sophie is…"

"We know that, Cal," Lettie replied softly. Her normally strong voice quavered softly and there was a pause filled with some sniffling before she continued again, "But it's been two days. We need to start thinking of what's best for the children."

"Kingsbury is too dangerous," Martha spoke solemnly.

"Perhaps they should come and stay with me in the Folding Valley," Mrs. Fairfax offered gently.

"No. I will stay here with them for Howl's sake," Martha replied, her tone making it clear that no one would argue with her.

"That will work for now," Lettie replied decidedly, but continued with worry plain in her voice, "What news from the capital? Have you heard anything from Barimus, Martha?"

"The daemons keep coming," was her ominous response.

"Don't worry, they're contained," Calcifer crackled confidently, "The barrier Suliman placed over Kingsbury during the Mardan War works both ways. It keeps magic out, but it also keeps magic in. The daemons can't leave the capital as long as it stands."

"But the daemons keep coming," Martha replied almost despondently.

"Don't worry dear," Mrs. Fairfax murmured reassuringly, "The elders on the Council are helping Barimus bolster the shield while the younger ones hunt down and banish the daemons."

"Two wizards died yesterday," the young herbalist' voice was shaky; the fear for her husband's well being plain within it as words written on a page.

"Nice doggy," Granny Witch murmured happily and the women lapsed into silence.

Markl turned his inner ear away from the voices below and his thoughts wandered to his master. Howl had not emerged from his room since he had broken his apprentice brother's nose. Barimus had not returned either, although Martha had told him this morning that his uncle was fine. He was relieved, but was not so sure about his master. He refused to eat the food that his aunts left at his door. He wouldn't even let Calcifer into his room; the little flame had retreated to the fireplace after waiting a whole day by his friend's door.

A small tap at his door broke his thoughts and the latch clicked as Shan squeezed into the room. The little boy crept over to his older brother's bed and climbed onto the foot. Akarshan was normally full of bouncing energy, but the gloom that filled the house made him subdued. Markl stared at the ceiling trying not to think about what the Aunts had said, definitively avoiding his brother's stare. Shan knew very little about what had happened and Markl planned to keep it that way.

"Is the shop closed today, Markl?" Shan spoke in a small voice more for the sake of talking itself.

"Yes, Shan," the young wizard replied evenly.

"What about the customers?"

"They'll come back later."

"Is papa sick?" Shan asked in a worried voice.

"Yes, Shan. We need to leave him alone right now."

"Okay," he murmured sadly, then gazed at him for a while before he spoke again, "What are the aunties talking about?"

"They're discussing who is going to look after us until Sophie comes come."

"Papa can't take care of us?"

"Not while he's sick, no."

"Then mama needs to come home so he'll get better."

"Sophie might not come back for a long time, Shan."

"When will she come home?"

"Soon, Shan; very soon," Markl spoke gruffly.

The young apprentice rolled over to avoid letting his little brother see the hot tears gathering in his eyes. The lie he had just spoken burned on his tongue, making him feel ashamed. He wondered at how often grown-ups had lie to children to keep them safe. All children invariably learned the truth: that life was hard and cruel and that their parents had lied to them. For most it was a rude awakening, but for others the breech of trust was so unexpected it was devastating. He brooded cynically at the futility of the act. And yet here he was, lying to keep his little brother safe from sorrow, giving him false hope for the moment.

Markl wondered bitterly if that made him an adult.

He lay there for a while, listening to the murmuring downstairs again, but the wind chimes overhead distracted him and the voices remained a distant buzzing. Unfortunately, Markl couldn't turn off his mind. His thoughts kept wandering back to the emptiness that reared up within in him, making it hard for him to breathe as he fell dizzily into the worst of his fears. Sophie was gone. His mother wasn't coming back.

He was loosing his family.

To distract himself from his desolation, Markl instead focused on his anger. The young wizard gritted his teeth against the surge of white hot hostility he felt for his master. Sometimes his master's inconsistencies drove Markl mad with frustration. The apprentice had seen his master fall into absolute despair over the color of his hair. But Howl had also single handedly turned back the heart of the Darkness and rebuilt the Dull Wall. He was an excellent teacher, mentoring his apprentice with endless patience and wisdom. Markl had endless respect for the man and loved him desperately. Howl was a wizard of incomparable power, but he was debilitated by his tempestuous emotions.

In fact Markl realized more and more that his master and his magic were ruled by his passions. The young wizard had not truly realized until recently how brittle Howl could be. He shrank from any distressing truth or action that might overturn the desperate status quo of pleasantness the man strove frantically to maintain. Sophie had played an enormous role in keeping their lives calm through her consistent nature, unconditional love, and level headed thinking. She was the magnet that brought balance to the violently swinging pendulum of their lives. Now that she was gone, Howl was lost once more in the turbulent waves of his melancholy.

As such, when they needed him most, Howl was absent.

Being angry didn't seem to help either; vacillating wildly between hating and loving his father left him feeling even emptier. So Markl lay there for some time, focusing on keeping his mind blank.

xXx

He must have fallen asleep at some point because a knock at the door downstairs jolted him awake.

He was on his feet and down the stairs in a blink, giving Aunt Martha a start. The young herbalist was sitting on the couch in front of Calcifer. Shan was asleep in her arms, sucking his thumb as he stirred in his sleep. In her rocking chair Granny Witch sat humming to herself as she knitted a sock with such single-mindedness that she obviously had not heard the door.

His youngest aunt had remained with them ever since the Howl and Barimus had their fight. Her decision to keep the boys near Howl had gained her enormous respect from Calcifer. The herbalist and the fire daemon reached a quiet understanding in the past two days. He neither fled up flue in her presence nor insulted the hedge witch behind her back. In reciprocation she no longer threatened his life with a water bucket.

"Kingsbury door," Calcifer snapped with a nervous grimace. Markl strode past his Aunt with a glance that made it clear he would answer the door. He stepped over Heen, who stood on the landing with his hackles up, his droopy ears perked up at the portal.

"Cal, is it human?" The young wizard asked as he stood ready by the latch.

"Flesh and blood as far as I can tell," the spark crackled.

He threw opened the door and stared into Theresa's large green eyes. The herbalist apprentice was accompanied by one of Barimus' honor guard, the blond witch who had brought ill tidings on her last visit. In one of her hands she clutched the haft of her enchanted garden hoe; in the other she held a large bag. The streets outside were completely empty and silent; not even birds were chirping. However, in the distance the young apprentice could see a long line of people walking in frightened groups along the main boulevards, ushered along by hundreds of red clad witches and wizard.

"Hi, Markl. I guess I've come to stay with you now," Theresa smiled weakly and danced in place nervously, as was her way.

"Are you Markl, apprentice of the great Wizard Howl, last Son of the Wallmakers?" The blond witch asked with brisk authority and the young man blushed nervously as he nodded silently. She was staring at him very intently and he notice the witch had one blue eye and one brown. He also noticed she was very pretty, if it weren't for the shortness of her platinum hair. Theresa frowned as she noticed him noticing the witch and her irritated expression made him uncomfortable. The witch bowed briskly and then thrust out her hand to shake his.

"I am Cyanine, chief messenger of the honor guards of the red wizard Barimus, Lord Councilor and Royal Wizard of Ingary. I am charged with delivering this girl to you as well as the following message."

"My _name_ is Theresa!" The herbalist apprentice snapped nastily and shoved past Markl into the castle. The blond witch watched her go without emotion, her posture speaking of nothing but the strict business of her errand. She bowed again with graceful reverence as Martha appeared at her nephew's elbow a curious light in her eyes, she still held a sleeping Shan. The messenger cast a questioning eye at the child in Martha's arms, but kept her own council on the meaning of that look.

"Greetings, Lady Martha; I bring news from the red wizard Barimus," Cyanine repeated as she motioned to the distant procession of people, "King Ferdinand has ordered the evacuation of the Capital. Your apprentice is no longer safe at the palace. I regret to inform you that the daemons invaders grow in number and boldness. They are strong in the night, although they flee the daylight. The shield holds and they cannot leave the city; but the witches and wizards of the council grow weary. A plea for help has been sent to Marda and Tyrn, who have agreed to send reinforcements."

Martha loomed like a living statue in the doorway, "How many?" She asked evenly.

"My lady?"

Cyanine seemed confused for a moment, although her face hardened as she puzzled out the herbalist's question. The messenger's eyes colored with sadness, although her voice was emotionless.

"Four more this morning; mist daemons caught them off guard just before dawn in the early gloom."

Martha nodded and turned to go back up the stairs. Markl watched her go, baffled by the exchange. He was about to close the door and go after his aunt to question her when Cyanine caught a hold of his sleeve.

"Wait!" She half whispered.

The witch's business attitude cracked and for a moment only a young woman stood before him, remorse was plain on her pretty face. Her hesitancy made her look much younger in that moment and Markl found himself wondering how old she was. Not much more than he, was his realization. She was probably no more than seventeen or eighteen, barely out of her own apprenticeship.

"I'm sorry for your loss," she murmured quickly, then saluted and retreated towards the evacuation procession.

The sandy haired apprentice closed the door and stood at the bottom of the stairs trying to decide what emotion to feel at that moment. The gaping hole within him had opened up once more, and he stumbled up the steps without really thinking about them.

His loss…

Martha was once again on the couch in front of the fireplace, her normally stoic face melancholy as she rocked Shan in her arms. With her long braid and family resemblance, she reminded Markl so much of Sophie in that moment that his knees went weak. Theresa was sitting next to her mistress and the sandy haired boy realized she was scowling at him angrily. Markl flushed with surprise and offense. Calcifer was grinning at him over a log and the young apprentice disliked the knowing gleam in the fire daemon's eyes. Granny Witch had taken notice of the red haired apprentice and was smiling absently.

"Oh, what a pretty young girl… You have leaves in your hair, dear," she mumbled as resumed the clicking of her needles. Theresa neither heard the compliment nor the hint; she crossed her arms and turned up her nose at him as he drew near.

_What's her problem?_ He fumed silently. Turning on his heel, he went stomping off up the stairs again to his room, but continued on.

A normal person would have experienced the most unsettling sense of disquiet as they walked down the hall at the top of the stairs. Although it looked quite short, as one continued down the way it seemed to stretch into an endless corridor lined with many identical doors. Each of the doors was labeled with a framed sign printed in swirly lettering with titles like library, or stairway to the roof, or stairway to the workshop. But Markl was anything but normal. He traversed the magic corridor with ease, throwing open the door to the castle's roof and venting his anger by stomping as loudly as he could to the top. As he reached the top and threw open the door, the chilly wind erupted around him, snatching at his hair and clothes.

Ignoring the chill as the bright sun poured down on him, the young wizard ran across the observation deck that crowned the flying castle. He swung up onto the spire ladder and half-climbed half-flew its very top. He did not look down at the emerald green world traversed by ribbons of shimmering blue water. He did not look up into the bright cerulean sky and trimmed with gossamer white clouds. By the time he plopped down onto the cold metal floor of the crow's-nest his heart was overflowing. The violence of his emotions poured out of him in the form of tears.

Sitting on the top of the world, Markl cried his eyes out.

After a while he realized that he was not the only on in the castle who was crying. The murmuring voices of the people downstairs intruded into his inner ear against his will. Someone was sobbing softly, almost too quiet for him to hear.

"What did you say to her, Calcifer!" Theresa's voice was hot red in his mind with anger.

"Don't be cheeky with me, little girl! I don't know what's gotten into her! I just asked what the messenger had said," the fire daemon popped and snapped in yellows and oranges.

"I am not little," Theresa snapped back, "And my _name_ is Theresa!"

"Why is Auntie crying!" Shan wailed in uncertainly.

"I'm sorry. It's not Calcifer's fault, Theresa. It's alright, Shan. I've just had a difficult couple of days," Martha spoke strongly again, getting herself back under control. But Markl could see the melancholy blues and purples in her mind as she spoke.

"Is it because Mrs. Danna blew up your house? Or did something happen to mommy?" Shan asked petulantly, his voice blossoming into a purple red flower within Markl's mind as the little boy picked up on his aunt's anguish.

"Everything's fine, Shan," Martha repeated insistently as she lied smoothly, "You're right, I'm sad because I lost my house."

"It's okay, auntie. I'll help you build a new one," Shan replied happily.

"Hey, kid! Where are you going?" Calcifer crackled brightly in Markl's mind and the apprentice saw Theresa in his othersight as she climbing up the stairs to the second story.

"My _name_ is Theresa!" She shouted back at him, her voice spreading through his mind like a leafy green fern. He watched with disembodied eyes as the feisty young woman stuck out her tongue at the fire daemon for good measure.

Cal fumed up large and orange as he sputtered indignantly, "Why you little! Hey! Don't go poking around where you're not supposed to!"

The red haired girl ignored him and continued on her way. Markl had an inkling of where she was going. He had some time to reflect on the cryptic question she had asked Barimus' messenger and the young wizard also had an idea about what was upsetting Martha.

"Oh, what a lively day today," granny witch murmured as Markl strove to close his inner ear to their thoughts.

He heard the door to the observation deck open and shut with a rusty squeal. Shortly after there was a tap on the metal trap door at the bottom of the crow's-nest; Markl hastily dried his eyes on his shirt and snuffled loudly.

"Can I come up Markl?" Theresa called and then came up anyway after he didn't answer.

The herbalist's apprentice sat across the small circular room gazing at him with guilty eyes as she swirled her curly red haired around one of her fingers. Markl ignored her, made self conscious by his salty face and red-rimmed eyes.

"I'm sorry, okay?" She finally spoke awkwardly, her voice echoed loudly and she turned as ref faced as her hair.

"I wish everyone would stop apologizing to me!" Markl growled in frustration and scrubbed his face with his hands. There was a long pause and Theresa fidgeted uncomfortably as her companion sat across from her like a gloomy rain cloud.

"I lost my mom too, you know," Theresa replied almost challengingly.

"Sophie isn't my mother," Markl snapped crossly, hoping that denial might make him feel better since he had already tried anger and sadness.

It didn't.

Searing shame flared within him as he felt awful for having tried to deny the fact that Sophie was his mother. His guilt plunged him dizzily back into the empty chasm within him and he came full circle back to despair once more. After another long silence, Theresa spoke again.

"Master Barimus sent me to stay with you and Shan. He says the capital isn't safe anymore. A daemon almost got into the palace last night, but the witches and wizards fought it off," Her voice was almost a whisper as she continued.

"I was the first one to see it from the window in Master Barimus' office! It looked like one of the things that were pinned under that woman's feet but ten times as large. It ate everything! Trees, buildings, statues… people…"

Markl couldn't help but look up at her after hearing the horror in her voice. She was pale but her face was fearless. The young apprentice felt badly for being such a grump and he smiled softly.

"You're very brave, Theresa. When I saw a daemon I couldn't move at all."

"Oh no, I'm not brave at all. I ran and hid in the closet after telling the Master," she cried honestly shaking her fists for emphasis.

People were dying in the capital. Theresa's story had confirmed his sneaky suspicion about what Martha and Cyanine had been talking about over his head. Four wizards had been eaten by a daemon that morning, right on the steps of the palace. Markl clenched his fists as his brain boiled. He felt like a coward hiding here in a flying castle far away from the problems of the world. Plus he was tired of being coddled and treated like a baby. He wasn't that much younger than Barimus' messenger and he was sure that the apprentices at the Royal Academy were helping in the fight somehow. He ached to do something, to help somehow, or at least do anything but hide.

If Sophie was here she would know what to do. She would be able to get Howl to rise out of his oblivion and together they would work to fix the problem.

But Sophie wasn't here.

The silver haired witch wasn't in this world anymore, that much was certain. The sandy haired apprentice had not been able to sleep at all that night. He had overhead Calcifer talking with Martha late that first night after his master's ring had refused to answer to his magic. As far as they knew Sophie was gone, but there was no certainty, no closure. That made things all that much worse.

"The ring is dark." Martha spoke in a mere whisper. Markl had to concentrate with all his might to understand what she was saying.

"That means she is no longer in this world. What that means I don't know." Cal crackled softly.

Theresa spoke again, but this time softly, drawing Markl out of his thoughts once more.

"Shan doesn't know about Sophie, does he?"

"No, he doesn't. Let's keep it that way, okay?"

"Is that a good idea?"

"I don't know," Markl replied sullenly.

"How is Master Howl?" She asked with genuine concern.

"I don't want to talk about him!" The young wizard spat sullenly, and then flashed a contrite smile at Theresa by way of apology.

"I'm glad you're here, Theresa," he spoke and his heart fluttered as she blushed pink and scooted close enough to reach out and take his hand.

"Me, too," the young girl replied as she looked up into the sky above, "At least here I feel safe."

But just how safe was here really?


	2. Chapter 2: Growing Up

**Twilight Doom: Part III of the Wallmaker Saga**

**Chapter 2: Growing Up**

Late that night Markl lay on the couch in the living room, Heen curled up on his feet. The young wizard stared at the castle's ceiling as he listened to the sounds of Granny Witch's snoring. The young apprentice had given up his room to Theresa. Martha was asleep with Shan in his room. No one had the heat to make use of Sophie's old bedroom at the very top of the stairs. The door, which was normally always open, was now closed.

"Are you awake, Calcifer?" Markl queried softly.

"I am now," The little flame crackled grumpily.

"Tell me about Mrs. Danna," he asked abruptly and the fire daemon flickered in surprise, burning brighter as he opened his eyes to regard the apprentice with a dour frown.

"That's some question, kid. What's in your head to make you ask something like that?"

"Don't change the subject, Cal. I need to know."

The fire daemon seemed hesitant, but spoke begrudgingly, "Witches and wizards are a funny because they can go between the mortal world and the otherworld, right? Well, we daemons aren't so lucky that way. The ones that are strong enough can cross between and the ones that aren't get suck beyond the veil. So sometimes the weak ones hop a ride on a witch or wizard, mostly ones with some inner emotional turmoil or sickness. It makes them easier to control. Once in the mortal world most daemons simply go their own way, but some get used to their new bodies and keep them. That's what happened with Howl's uncle Agyrus."

"I don't want to talk about Howl right now," Markl interrupted moodily, "What does this have to do with Mrs. Danna?"

"This is part of the answer to your question, Markl, so shut up and listen," he crackled irritably, "The majority of daemons that run off into this world can be summoned by witches and wizards. They're beholden to their masters, but they're still separate entities. The sorcerers have to coerce them into doing their bidding, but if the daemons try hard enough they can break away. Think of the blobmen the Witch of the Waste's used to have. Even Heen started life as a daemon, but he turned into a fat useless dog instead of becoming something more interesting," the fire eyed the old mutt with a sour face.

Markl realized the old creature was regarding them with a single lazy eye. He wheezed softly and snuffled then went back to sleep. The young wizard gazed at him nervously under the new revelation, but the dog had long since proved to be their friend.

"So there are good daemons and bad daemons?" He asked hesitantly.

"Oh course there are! What kind of a question is that? However, the majority of daemons exist somewhere in between good and evil," Cal popped indignantly and continued somewhat cryptically, "Daemon is just a word, Markl. It's a name that humans gave to the mysteries that leak into this world from the beyond. You like to think you know everything about something just because you've given it a name. It makes you feel in control when the truth is you know squat. Are we talking about Mrs. Danna or not?"

"Sorry," Markl muttered as the flame hunkered down into the ashes in the grate.

"Okay, so the weird thing about this witch is she's not coercing the daemons nor are they wearing her like a party dress. She is riding daemons, not the other way around. This woman has at least thirteen of some very nasty characters locked up in her soul. It's like she's collecting the most powerful ones she can find, keeping them trapped within her so she can use their magic to make her stronger."

"To what end?" Markl's brow furrowed in bewilderment.

"Beats me, I've long since given up trying to figure you guys out. Regardless, this lady definitely has it out for our family. I smelled her magic six years ago and it's the same smell on Sophie's necklace. She's responsible for all of this. I know it. But one thing is for sure, next time I see her I'm going to eat her," Cal burned larger for a moment, his eyes going empty and his mouth filling with point teeth as he colored a blackish purple Markl had never seen the flame turn before. It was a terrifying sight; it made his blood run cold. But it was fleeting a fleeting and the spark returned to a red ember. He continued as though nothing had happened.

"Another thing bothers me," Cal sizzled as he mused softly, "The witch has no heart, but none of the daemons she has trapped in her have it. That means someone else has it."

Markl was silent for a long time, thinking about all that Calcifer had just told him.

"Is she the one letting the daemons into this world?"

"Dunno… Probably," Cal replied distractedly, tingeing a yellowish color as he began to doze lightly.

"How many are there?" He asked in a troubled voice.

"A lot… Too many perhaps," the fire daemons was being very blunt in his sleepy state.

"What are we going to do?" Markl asked no one in particular as he stated into the distance.

"What makes you think I know the answer to that! Honestly, you humans never stop asking questions," He crackled irritably and Heen wheezed softly. Markl stood staring into the glowing hearth feeling heavy melancholy gather in his heart like icy water. His voice was almost a whisper when he spoke.

"Do you think Sophie is…"

"No! I don't, so don't even say it!" The fire daemon roared up out of his feigned sleep, regarding the apprentice with a ferocious gaze.

"But the ring?" Markl replied meekly.

"Magic is wrong sometimes, Markl! Never forget that!" Cal snapped and popped but dwindled back to his ember-like form in the ash of the grate.

The apprentice did not feel reassured by the fire daemon's words. If anything they made the gaping hole in his chest that was his grief and fear grow larger under the crushing weight of uncertainty. But it galvanized him in the decision he had just made. Markl threw back the blanket and stood quickly, dumping Heen onto the end of the couch. He strode into the kitchen and snagged the patchwork cloak Sophie made for him off of its wall peg. Calcifer started up at the young wizard's sudden movement and watched him with large eyes.

"Hey… Hey, what do you think you are doing?" The flame crackled nosily.

"I'm a wizard, Cal. I may be young but I'm not going to sit here and wait for bad things to keep happening. I have an obligation to protect this family and if Howl can't deal with this problem, then as his apprentice I'm going to deal with it for him!"

The fire daemon regarded him with a stunned expression as the young man swung his cloak around his shoulders and started up the stairs to his foster parent's bedroom. Normally he would have been terrified to knock on his master's door, especially knowing he was in the worst of ways. He stood for a moment staring at the doorknob listening to his heart pound before he entered without knocking.

The gloom filling the wizard Howl's room was not caused by the night alone. In his othersight Markl could see shadows and creeping shapes wandering about the cluttered room, making it cold and clotted with darkness. The lesser daemons of grief and sorrow crowded the corners of his father's room, given entrance by Howl's bereavement. Normally the sight would have filled him with apprehension, but instead it made Markl angry. His eyes sought the dim outline of the wizard on the disheveled bed. Howl's dark hair was spread out on the bare mattress and his back was to the door.

"Master Howl," Markl spoke in a strong voice but received no reply.

"Father," he replied in a softer voice filled with sorrow. The wizard did not even move.

"Fine!" Markl shouted finally as he stamped his foot in rage, "Lay there and rot for all I care! Mother would never put up with this. We need you but you don't care. But I care, master Howl and if you won't protect us then I will!"

With that he fled the room, although he shut the door behind him quietly. He hoping his little outburst had not woken the rest of the family. As he walked with slow steps down the hallway, the sullen apprentice paused in front of the silver witch's room. For some reason he felt the need to go in, the squirrelly feeling in his mind urging him on.

Sophie's room was small and peaceful compared to Howl's gloomy chamber. However it had a vacant smell and neat appearance of a place that had gone long without real occupation. The young wizard cast his eyes around the room and the feeling in his mind grew more tangible, almost like an audible buzzing. Markl felt a thrill of insight as his eyes fell upon a thin object leaning against the wall in one of the corners.

Suliman's staff seemed to gleam at him in the moonlight.

Sophie had not taken it with her on the day she had gone to visit Barimus. Perhaps things would be different if she had. The silver haired witch was extremely powerful, but her magic was based in instinct and intuition, not practice and study. She was often at a complete loss for how to use her power without the late Royal Witch's staff.

The young apprentice knew from his master and his uncle that the staff was a powerful magical artifact. It was exceedingly old and brimmed with magic, which gave it a sentient quality. The staff was very particular about who wielded it and caused great discomfort to anyone it rejected. Both his master and the red wizard refused under most conditions to even touch the thing. Reaching out Markl picked up the staff.

Nothing happened.

He waited but no demonic voice glowered in his head, nor did he burst into flames, or turn into a newt. The staff just felt like a bit of wood in his hands. He was disappointed for a moment until a fey thrill passed through him, sounding very familiar to the insistent buzz that had goaded him into the room. He stared at the staff in aversion as he held it at arms length, but kept it in his grasp. It was anything but a bit of wood.

Turning, he fled down the stairs and listened to the soft thunk the staff made on the floor as he walked. Both Heen and Calcifer stared at him, one from the couch and the other from the fireplace.

"That's Suliman's staff!" Cal piped in surprise, "Hey! Hey, where do you think you're going?"

"To the capital; Barimus is going to need help whether he asks for it or not," Markl replied as he paused on the landing at the top of the front stairs.

Cal flared up in trepidation, "Let me come with you!"

"If you leave you'll need to land the castle and that will put our family in more danger. Martha can take care of Shan and Theresa, but I'm counting on you to stay and keep Howl safe," Markl replied convincingly.

"But you can't go out there! Not at night! Not alone!" Cal wavered fearfully, coloring blue and green as he dwindled smaller.

"I'm not afraid," Markl lied smoothly, doing his best to sound brave.

Turning the young apprentice fled down the stairs, turned the magic knob to red and fled out into the night before the fire daemon could argue with him.

xXx

Kingsbury had never before felt this terrifying.

Markl stood outside his master's storefront in the capital city and stared into the dark streets. All of the houses were dark and the only light came from large gas lamps, which shed pools of orange illumination on the street corners. The stark contrast between the light and the shadows made the streets seem more sinister.

Suddenly the young wizard deeply regretted his hasty decision to leave the castle in the middle of the night. However, the sandy-haired young man knew for certain that had he tried to leave during the day Aunt Martha would have surely pursued him. She would have dragged him home by the ear and locked him into his room. She even might have swallowed the key.

No, he had to get to the Palace and help his uncle; the buzzing in his mind told him that with complete certainty. And so he shot off along the dimly lit streets, Suliman's staff held tightly in his hands. His heart hammering in his chest in spite of the fact that he melted into the surroundings, thanks to his patchwork cloak. Markl had been to the capital several times in his life, but invariably he always got lost.

Indeed, he was lost again.

Coming to a stop in the middle of a well lit intersection, Markl phased back into visibility as he stared down each crossroad. They all looked the same and none looked familiar.

"Damnit!" The apprentice cursed loudly, and clamped his hand over his mouth. His voice seemed to echo through the streets explosively.

Somewhere in the darkness something stirred, sending rippled through Markl's othersight. He felt faint with terror for a moment then turned and fled down one of the streets. He was moving too quickly and having too much trouble thinking to be able to fade into the background.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see the shadows bending and stretching towards him in the wrong direction for the way the light was being cast on the street. As Markl rounded a corner blindly, a dead end full of black shadows reared up in front of him. Turning back the way he came, the apprentice came up short as he watched three shadows stretch long into the street. They became tangible as they rose from the ground like thin mists.

The shadow daemons fluttered into the air like bits of cobweb, regarding him with ruby eyes. Their filmy hands solidified into long claws and one split through the middle to reveal needled fangs. As in Martha's shop, the sight of the daemon's petrified him and all he could do was stand and tremble. With a hiss like escaping steam, they rushed him all at once.

"No!" Markl screamed and thrust Suliman's staff before him.

A screech like nails on a chalkboard drew forth from the closest shade as a blinding arc of white light lanced from the staff and split the daemon in two. It crumbled into ash. The two remaining shades hovered backwards, regarding Markl with guarded red eyes. Suddenly balls of green and yellow flame shot from above as two red uniformed wizards dropped from the sky.

The creatures hissed and boiled as they dogged the missiles, shrieking as they were singed by the mage fire. Two more of the royal wizard's guard rounded the corner on foot, blocking the daemon's retreat. One with short blonde hair reached into her pocket and chucked a glass orb into the midst of the shadows. As it shattered a red magic circle erupted from the ground beneath the daemons. The shades disintegrated.

"Are you alright?" A tall sorcerer with dark skin asked as he bent to peer at Markl. The two wizards that had fallen from the air drew near curiously, their merry green eyes sparkling in the night. They were twins in every way, down to the unruly curls of their red hair and the matching smirks they wore on their faces.

"What in the name of hell do you think you're doing?" The blonde witch yelled at the apprentice as she got in his face. Markl realized she had one blue eye and one brown eye.

"Cyanine! It's me, Markl. Wizard Howl's apprentice," he managed to blurt out as he swept back his hood.

"Markl? What are you…"

But the tall wizard cut her off, his dark eyes intent as he peered into the gloom. Without warning he pushed both she and Markl out of the way of a long tendril that shot out of the dark behind them. They tumbled to the ground in a pile as the arm missed them by a hair's breadth.

"Look out!" His shout was cut off with a gurgle as the tendril wrapped itself around his neck.

"Terath!" Cyanine cried in anguish as the Wizard was yanked back into the dark. His blood curdling screams were audible beyond the shadows and every hair on Markl's body stood on end as they ceased abruptly.

Great yellow eyes as large as the gas lamps overhead blinked into existence. An oozing blob of black muck three times the size of a horse tottered forward on spidery limbs. It surveyed them with the blank reflective eyes of an insect as it chewed slowly. Bone crutching noises filled Markl's ears and he almost retched.

"Greed daemon!" The twins called in unison. They stepped into the air like larks and began lobbing handfuls of fire at the enormous creature.

"Run!" The messenger screamed.

She pulled Markl to his feet. The young wizard barely had time to snatch up Suliman's staff before the blond witch pulled him into a run at breakneck speed. The daemon absorbed the handfuls of flame, tottering to the side as it lost its balance. It let out a gurgling moan that sounded much like a pig's squeal, but a hundred times deeper. The two wizards dodged and wove through the air, distracting the daemon from the fleeing pair. The oozing thing tore to reveal its gaping maw and ejected a frog-like tongue, which it lashed out towards its fleeing prey.

"Can you fly?" Cyanine yelled as they dashed around the corner into the yellow lamp light.

"Barely!" Markl called back, his voice sounding high and foreign to his ears.

Behind them the corner of the building shattered into a great cloud of bricks and mortar as the daemon chased after them. It squealed and wove madly as the twin wizards harried it from above with fire. However, the thing moved with surprising speed and the ground trembled under the impact of its clawed feet.

"Try!" Cyanine shrieked as she leapt into the air, barely avoiding the black tendril which smashed the cobblestones where she had been moments previously.

Fueled by desperation, Markl shot vertically into the air. However, the young apprentice floundered twenty feet up as he attempted unsuccessfully to redirect his flight to a horizontal path. The greed daemon shuddered to a halt just below him, tearing great gouges into the brick street. It thrummed deeply and swiveled its yellow eyes to fix upon him. Again it split to reveal its jaws and shot the black tendril into the sky, but this time it separated into six reaching arms, all aimed at him.

The wind was knocked from him as he was yanked by the elbows into an eye-watering flight by the twin wizards. They grinned at him grimly as they shot over the city.

"You need some flying lessons little brother" One wizard began and the other finished in identical burnished copper voices.

Cyanine rose to fly just beneath them. Her face was severe as she watched the greed daemon lumber after them, screeching and crashing through buildings to keep up pursuit.

"Don't fly to fast boys, we don't want it to loose us," her voice was hard.

"Can you banish it like the shades?" Markl called as he caught sight of the large glowing dome of the palace greenhouse not far ahead.

"No, it's too strong," Cyanine shouted over the wind.

"Won't it follow us to the palace?"

"That's the point, little brother," one of the twins grinned in to his right as the other finished the sentence on his left.

"The Council has created a huge banishing circle in the center of the royal courtyard. We're bait for the trap," Cyanine explained.

The wizards began a dizzying downward spiral as they wheeled over the palace's steps. Indeed, Markl could see the enormous red circle in his othersight, and he was distracted from his nausea by marveling over the amount of skill necessary to create such a thing. As they landed on the grand staircase in front of the citadel, the greed daemon squeezed through the main gate and shambled into the courtyard towards them. Markl was seized by the irrational urge to flee, but the twin wizard's still had hold of his elbows.

The daemon let out an ear-splitting squeal as it crossed into the circle, which erupted into red fire. The being thrashed and spun as it became trapped behind a crimson barrier; it tottered on wobbling legs and fell to the ground with a shudder. As it let loose a long gurgling moan, it burst into flames and faded into ash as the circle went dark.

"Back beyond the Dull Wall, you vile thing," Cyanine mumbled fiercely then turned and started up the steps.

"Bring him!" She called back and the twins ushered Markl forward.

xXx

Markl sat on the very same couch outside his uncle's office where he had overheard the red wizard and his master arguing. However, this time it was King Ferdinand of Ingary that was yelling at the Royal Wizard Barimus.

Cyanine and the twin wizards, who she had briskly introduced as Peoter and Deiter without specifying who was which, sat waiting with him as well. Whereas the royal Wizard's messenger stared off into a corner gloomily, the twins regarded Markl with open curiosity and stared brazenly.

Their grins intensified as the young wizard colored and fiddled with Suliman's stick. Their green eyes shifted to the staff in his hands and remained there for some time, much to Markl's relief. To distract himself from their unnerving scrutiny, he focused his inner ear on the conversation in his uncle's office.

"Your majesty, I'm sorry but you are no longer safe here," Barimus replied smoothly, his voice placating.

"I will not abandon my city! What about the Mardan and Tyrnian reinforcements?" The king sputtered indignantly.

"We're not going to abandon the city, my lord. But you must understand that guns and mortal soldiers are helpless before these creatures. If we let down the shield to allow new witches and wizards in we risk letting daemons out. The same goes for using magic portals. Do you want monsters rampaging in the countryside, your majesty?"

"No," King Ferdinand replied irritably and the young wizard could hear his moustache bristle, "Bah! I'm used to fighting wars against a known enemy that is flesh and blood. All this magic makes me itchy."

"The Council is working on locating the source of these daemons, my liege. You will be the first to known when we find out who is responsible," the red wizard spoke smoothly.

"I know, Barimus. You're a damn good wizard and I have faith in your abilities. But I'm staying and that's final!"

With that the king stood and strode from the Royal Wizard's office. The occupants of the adjoining chamber shot to their feet and bowed deeply as the ruler of Ingary bustled through waving a dismissive hand. Through the open door Markl caught a glimpse of Barimus, who was wearily resting his face in his hands.

Cyanine sent Markl a sour glance and disappeared into the room, leaving a crack in the door through which the young wizard had to crane his neck to see. Peoter and Deiter, or Dieter and Peoter grinned at his brazen display of nosiness, but said nothing. Markl pricked up his inner ear, entering into the middle of their conversation.

"We banished another greed daemon and two shades, Lord Councilor," the blonde witch replied.

"And Terath?"

"Eaten, Lord Councilor."

"How terrible," Barimus muttered despondently.

"Sir, we also picked up your nephew."

"What?" Barimus' shouted in absolute surprise.

"Sir, he was wandering the streets alone."

The doors to the red wizard's office flew open and his uncle stared him. Barimus loomed in such a way that could have dwarfed his wife in the worst of her silent rages. Markl could say he had seen his uncle angrier, but it was a close call.

"Out! All of you!" Barimus thundered and the guards fled the room.

"Are you MAD?"

His uncle boomed and Markl cringed as the chandelier overhead tinkled. He did his best to stand straight as he gathered himself up and held forth Suliman's staff. In his rage Barimus had not noticed his late master's stick and the sight of it in his nephew's hand gave him quite a fright. Markl was privy to another of his uncle's rare moments of speechlessness. As the Royal Wizard of Ingary recovered, the apprentice noticed that his uncle's nose was quite straight; although there was a greenish bruising at either side of his bridge.

"Where did you get that?" Barimus managed to say finally.

"I took it from Sophie's room. It let me bring it here. I'm going to help you, uncle," Markl announced in a voice that was much stronger than he felt.

The apprentice was still quite shaken from his earlier encounter. Much to his relief his uncle sat heavily in one of the antechamber's cushy chairs, sprawling backwards in exhaustion as he threw a hand over his face with a sigh. The movement reminded Markl so much of something that his master would do that he almost lost the iron grip he held on his frazzled emotions.

"Markl, you could have been killed," Barimus spoke softly from under his hand.

"People are already dying, uncle. And I refuse to stay locked up in the castle being lied to and coddled like a baby. I can help you, I know it. Please." Markl replied quickly.

"Does Howl know you're here?" Barimus asked evasively.

"No." The apprentice did not trust himself to say more about his foster father. The red wizard straightened and regarded him with a cryptic expression. His features softened slightly.

"How is Martha?" He asked in a quiet voice.

"Sad. She misses you terribly and worries a lot. But she and Calcifer are getting a long really well since she refused to let Aunt Lettie take us to stay at Grandmother Hatter's shop."

"Well, that's not something I expected to hear," Barimus smiled weakly, and then cast a sideways glance at Suliman's staff.

"How is Howl?" He asked hesitantly after a moment.

"Dead to the world," Markl replied nastily and then flushed in embarrassment as his uncle regarded him mildly.

"Howl is very complicated, Markl. Now that Sophie is gone it is…" Barimus began.

"I don't want to talk about that!" He half shouted.

The young man stood and paced the room feeling not at all as sure of himself as he had been when he left home. He continued quickly to mask his emotional turmoil.

"Martha is going to take care of Shan, Theresa, and Granny witch. Calcifer will take care of all of them, including Howl. But you need me, Uncle Barimus. I just heard you telling King Ferdinand that you needed wizard reinforcements!"

"It's not polite to eavesdrop, Markl," Barimus replied evenly, regarding him again with the cryptic look.

"Are you going to let me help or not?" The young wizard replied stalwartly.

"How old are you Markl?" Barimus asked suddenly.

The young apprentice blinked at the random question, but replied defiantly, "I just had my thirteenth birthday."

The red wizard sighed heavily and stood regarding his nephew. The apprentice finally figured out the meaning behind the look. It was acceptance. As his uncle walked to the door of the antechamber and opened it for Markl, the sandy haired boy felt his heart soar.

"Thirteen... That's man enough as far as I'm concerned. Come with me," his uncle spoke absently, "I'll brief you on the situation as we walk."

xXx

Howl was dreaming and he wished he would never wake up.

Sophie lay against him as he last remembered her, tucked into the crook of his arm. She was asleep and he watched her peaceful face. He had never known love until this woman, nor had he truly lived until she came into his life. As Howl lingered on the boarder between the waking world and his dream, Sophie began to fade in his arms. He felt as though his heart was being torn from his chest. It was just a dream, but its cruelty was unspeakable. The wizard opened his eyes for a moment and stared at the ceiling of their room. The cold hand of grief constricted within him, causing him to curl into a tight ball. He hugged himself against the wracking shudders that seized him.

It was just a dream.

Was it possible to love someone so much you were lost without them? Howl believed that desperately as he tried to cling to the dream form of his wife, which threatened to flee him under the crushing weight of his grief. The frayed tendrils of Howl's memories seemed to slip through his fingers like insubstantial mists. How easy it was to take for granted the presence of another. How quickly the mind forgot the details of their face, like the shape of their nose or the scent of their hair. Howl hugged Sophie's pillow and crushed his face into it. It still smelled like her, a mix of clean laundry and fresh bread.

How fragile, and yet how strong? How complete and yet so flawed?

They were a perfect contradiction, proof that even fates were blind before the powerful love of fools. He was vain and selfish and she was practical and selfless. Sophie had the ability to incite in him the most potent of rages, so complete he could not even breathe lest he burst into flames. But all it took was one look from her and he would shatter and fall like cool rain to sooth her pain. Over the years of their marriage they had become each other. He would hurt and she would feel. She would think and he would hear it. They were one being and Howl felt as though he would die from the wretchedness of being only half a soul. She was the mother of his children and the queen of his heart. She ruled him like the moon pulls the tides of the sea. How could he live without her?

He wasn't strong enough. Not without her.

How could he get up and leave this room knowing that Sophie would not be there when he reached the bottom of the stairs? How could he wake up every morning knowing that her loving brown eyes would not be the first thing he saw in morning? How could he raise their children without having Sophie there to tell him when he was right or wrong, or being too harsh, or to carefree? Sophie was the only one who did any real magic in this family. She held them together with her love and that was the most powerful spell he had ever encountered.

Could a man with half a soul be anywhere near as strong?

The one thing he thought he could do was protect them. He had fought for them in the Mardan war. He had turned back the Dark and rebuilt the wall to keep them safe. He taught them magic so that they could be formidable. But magic was fallible and ever spell ended eventually. Barimus was right. He had not listened to Markl because he was afraid. It had been six years, but he was still terrified of the truth. He had not been there to protect his family. He had tried to keep them out of politics and away from the capital. In the end it was not nearly enough.

His failure was complete. It was infinite. It was his fault.

Howl plunged once more into the darkness and misery he pulled around himself like a great smothering cloak. But a ray of light pierced his consuming melancholy as a single thought rose unbidden in his mind.

What about his sons?

The thought roused him as though he had been touched by an electric wire. What kind of father was he to lie in bed and wallow in his own misery, ignoring the suffering the rest of his family. If Sophie were here she would never had put up with him acting like this. True, she would have let him have some time to himself, but then she would have barged in and dragged him out of his stupor. With endless fortitude she would have ignored him as he kicked and screamed the entire way down the stairs. Then she would have explained to him with patience, and a good kick or two if necessary, exactly what he needed to hear.

But Sophie wasn't here. He was on his own now.

How long had he been like this? How long had he let Sophie do all the work so he could run away from his responsibilities? He hadn't changed at all, the wizard realized. Howl remembered vaguely that Markl had come in earlier. He had not listened to a word his eldest son had said. Again he was running, ignoring problems hoping they would just go away. But at what cost? In that moment he recognized how desperately he needed his boys and was sure that they needed him right now as well.

The raven haired man threw off his blanket and sat up in bed. Listening to the sounds of the house he marveled over how quiet it was. Howl wobbled slightly as he stood, his legs stiff from his bedridden state. As he stood in front of the bedroom door he stared at the latch, a paralyzing fear rooting him in place. What if he failed again? But he crushed that thought with an iron first. The wizard made a promise to himself right there that he would not run anymore. They were going to work together from now; they were going to be a family once more. As he reached down and opened the door, Howl thought of his wife

Sophie would be proud.


	3. Chapter 3: The Door

**Twilight Doom: Part III of the Wallmaker Saga**

**Chapter 3: The Door**

Once again Sophie woke to find the ground beneath her hands green and verdant.

As she looked out over the rolling plains the otherwind blew through the window of her soul like a strong northern gale. The otherworld opened up around her like the bowl of heaven, overhead the empty sky was mellow purple velvet.

But this place was not paradise, all the same she could not resist. It was so peaceful and she felt so very tired, so much so that she did not try to sit up and simply lay there staring at her hand in the verge. As she looked at her palm an electric shock shot through her. The cold terror in its wake washed away the false sense of tranquility.

These were not her hands.

The hands she held before her face were old and wrinkled, as they had been a long time ago. As she tried to sit up, the silver haired witch was seized by the most overwhelming weakness. She could barely push herself upright. Panting and wobbling uncertainly managed to sit upright. Running her hands over her face, Sophie found the dry creases and sagging folds that one would expect on the face of an old woman. Another thrill of terror went through her as another realization dawned on her. There was something missing.

Her magic was gone!

It was as though a piece of herself had disappeared, leaving behind only a gaping hole that left her hollow and brittle with indescribable frailty. She slumped in despair and almost fell back into the grass. Without her magic she was powerless in this world. Sophie felt as though she was made of sand and could feel herself crumbling away in the relentless otherwind. She was fading, like mist under a bright sun, and she knew that if she stayed she would eventually disappear. How long had she been here, and furthermore, how did she get here?

The memories came rushing back all at once from the hazy fog that filled her mind. She saw the face of a little girl and remembered the great dark hall in the council chamber of the palace.

_My daughter!_ Her mind called unconsciously to the echoing expanse of the rolling hills. Only the ever present silent wind answered.

Again Sophie struggled to her feet, her joints ached and her back bowed under the enormous weight of the magic in the otherworld. But she managed to stand. As she took a wobbly step forward a constricting vice closed around her neck. The Wallmaker's wife fell to the ground gasping and clawing at something that wound itself around her neck. As she lay prone in the grass once more, the garroting strength receded and the silver sorcerss felt her throat with hesitant hands. Beneath her fingers she felt a smooth cord like spun silk, which wound its way around her neck and away behind her. Dread filled her with nausea as she turned her gaze over her shoulder.

She stared up at the hungry black bricks of the Dull Wall, which loomed over her like death itself.

The sight left her trembling, and she cast her eyes along the black cord, following it through the grass where it met up with the base of the barrier. At the very foot of the Wall she could see that the grass of the rolling plains was turning brown. A swath of dead grass followed the cord halfway back to where Sophie lay. She was sure that if she watched long enough the green would continue to fade as the Wall pulled the magic of the hills through her to feed its ravenous appetite. Sophie knew at once where he magic had gone and she also realized why her strength was seeping way.

If she remained here much longer she would die.

Another person would have given in to desolation and let the winds take them; but not Sophie. The hatter's daughter lay in the grass, fighting the fatigue that tried to rob her of the ability to think. But she could hear Howl's voice clear in her mind from one of their discussions about magic. Her husband and she had been talking about what to do in dire circumstances when even magic was not readily available.

_Don't focus on what you can't do; think about what you can do_. He had said. _First take stock of what is at your disposal. You will be surprised what can be do with very little._

She felt around her neck and knew that the talisman Howl had given her was gone; touching her ears she noticed that so too were her earrings. She wished she had brought Suliman's stick with her to the Palace, and railed against her own stupidity in futile anger. Although the newly old woman quickly calmed herself realizing that being cross would not help her situation.

However, looking at her hands again she trembled under a tiny ray of hope. On her right index finger was the magic ring with the red jewel and on her left was the simply silver band of her wedding ring. She began to spin it on her finger as was her habit and the motion gave her strength. Focusing her inner eye on the red jewel in the other ring, she concentrated with all her might.

_Help!_ Was the faint call she let loose into the otherwind.

She could feel the fragile message bounce off of the bricks behind her and chased after the echoes that disappeared over the rolling green plains. She did not know what to expect and half her mind chided her for the foolish waste of energy. Sophie was not sure how long she lay there; it could have been days or it could have been seconds. One could never tell in the otherworld.

Hope began to flee from her as the encompassing silence overwhelmed her. That was until she felt a distant pulse of pressure. There was no sound in the otherworld, but one was able to _feel_ sounds and words as tangibles rather than hear them. They twisted like slippery bits of cobweb that pulsed and throbbed like many colored rainbows within the inner ear of the mind. The distant response tinkled like the tiny bells that hung on chimes in her husband's room. As the vibrating voices drew nearer, Sophie saw lights on the horizon above the green hills.

The points of shimmering light trailed gossamer strands of magic in the velvet sky above. Three of them fell from the indigo veil not far from the witch, tumbling and skipping to a halt as they resolved into human-like forms outlined in silver. The figures rose from their hands and knees and wavered as though they were dancing; a starry sky seemed to fill their dim outlines. Tiny points of light floated up from the green hills in response to the figures presence, and mellow white and blue orbs zipped and floated around them in response to their magic.

Sophie recognized the Star daemons immediately. She had seen them before during the Mardan War when the late Witch Suliman had dragged both her and Howl into the otherworld for a magic confrontation. She shrank from them in fear, knowing not if they meant to harm her or help her. Daemons were fickle things, and although some were good and others were evil, most occupied the fluctuating in between of uncertainty.

The shining figures bowed and waved their arms in placating gestures, and Sophie realized at once that they were trying to put her at ease. They chimed happily and nodded their heads, reading her thoughts as they blinked tiny eyes full of mystery. The star daemons approached, frolicking like the curling eddies of a gentle stream and singing a dappled song of many colors within her mind. They circled Sophie, casting shimmering multi-colored shadows around her as they reached out to pluck at the chocker enclosing her neck. She coughed and gasped as it tightened stubbornly. The star daemons withdrew their hands hastily, wavering and dimming in contrition as they could do nothing to remove it.

The star beings moved beyond her to stoop and pull at the black ribbon that fed the Dull Wall. For a moment they flared up in bright cascades of silver sparkles that crackled like magnesium fire and it seemed to give. The parasitic line snapped taut and dragged hungrily at the beings. They dimmed and flickered as they rallied against the barrier's coercive pull.

All at once they let go and fell back against the green plains, their wails of despair throbbed in Sophie's mind. Pulling themselves to their feet, the daemons encircled her once more. Bowing and trembling like melancholy waves of starlight, they patted and brushed her hair with compassion and consolation. She smiled at them with sad thanks and began to cry.

The brightest among the stars kneeled in front of her, reaching its sparkling arms imploringly to her and then back to itself as it rocked like the tides of the sea. It touched her tears with tendrils of light and lifted her face to meet its gaze. The tiny orbs that blinked at her from the corona that was its head were swirling pools of blue and violet.

_Help you. How? _Its voice sang in her mind like the sound of a thousand crystals ringing. It was an ancient voice, full of intelligence.

_Howl! _She replied and sent an image of her husband's face and a memory of their family.

The two younger stars flared up into thin columns of light as they began to fluctuate and cry in terror. They exploded upward in a shower of sparks, fleeing into the distant indigo sky. Sophie cringed from their fire as she could feel a pressure building in her chest; it heralded the use of great magic somewhere in the mortal world. It left her feeling dizzy and she knew that something was coming. The eldest being cast its gaze over its shoulder and wavered in trepidation then turned back to her and clutched at her hands.

_Wait. _It encouraged heras it sent a thrill of cool magic through her mind._ Help you!_ It cried exultantly as it shot into the sky like a comet and dwindled into nothing. Sophie could only stare after it, filled with desperate hope.

A moment after it left, the ground before her trembled and split into a great vortex. Through it raised a tall woman in a green dress that trailed behind her like cobwebs. Sophie reeled as a shock of recognition fled through her; this was the healer she had met that night six years ago! Next to her was a small girl, about six years in age, who had blue eyes and silver hair.

The cold woman held Sophie's lost daughter by the hand, a cruel look in her eyes.

xXx

"I'll be right back," Barimus said quickly before he shut the door.

Mark took in the room and wished he had stayed outside with the daemons.

The circular chamber was much like the library in the royal wizard's academy, but not in the number of books that lined its walls. Markl found himself rooted in place and shrinking in size under the eyes of at least twelve wizard's apprentices. A few faces seemed familiar from the long hours of his punishment, but the snigger that cascaded through the young girls and boys was unmistakably familiar. The sandy haired young man vacillated wildly between abject terror and hot resentment. He realized his uncle had tricked him into thinking he was going to be treated like and adult, and then led him willingly straight to the little kid's table.

The apprentices were gathered like a flock of multicolored birds on a pile of pillows in the center of the room. Beautifully coifed and richly dressed, Markl felt like a homely finch among lovely peacocks. He was distracted for a moment from his dubious situation by the beauty of his surroundings. An ivory pedestal about half the size of a man stood in the middle of the rough circle the young witches and wizard's formed. From its circumference extended sloping gold ribs that sunk into the white marble floor. As they dispersed towards the pearly walls, the ribbons of metal surfaced. Curving upward like supporting buttresses for the domed ceiling, the spokes re-converged as pinnacle high above the white plinth.

"Well," a boy about his own age with straight long red hair spoke in a condescending tone, distracting Mark from the architecture. As the speaker rose gracefully it became obvious he was the alpha of the group from the way that all eyes went to him. The boy had a thin face that made him look almost sickly, although he was quite striking in his black tunic and hoes, "What do we have here?"

"Nalir, don't start!" A plump little witch with curly blonde hair chided. There were crumbs on the front of her voluminous magenta silk robe.

"Don't be so combative, Hedera. Look at his clothes. He's probably just a servant who got lost," Another young wizard, who was tall as an oak but thin as a reed commented dismissively.

"He can't be a servant, Ryeth. Lord Councilor Barimus brought him in. Besides, all the common people have gone from the capital," a horsy black haired witch with large front teeth spoke. The words tumbling out of her mouth with the same abandon that a waterfall threw itself off of a cliff. She was dressed in a teal velvet dress that did not suite her yellowish complexion.

"Not all of the servants have gone, Trissa," the blonde witch retorted haughtily, "I saw one this morning in the kitchen."

"Spend much time in the palace pantries, do we Hedera?" The sallow girl replied nastily, a cruel glint in her eyes. The plump girl flushed furiously as she snatched up a cushion and flung it at the dark haired apprentice.

"You horrible little viper!" Hedera shrieked.

Trissa easily dodged the pillow, but went to stand with an eager expression in her dark eyes. Nadir laughed in delight as the girls scrambled at one another. But the reedy young apprentice intervened before the two could fly at each other. The rest of the apprentices shrank inwardly as they tried to ignore the scene, obviously used to such petulant outbursts. Markl was absolutely flabbergasted by the group. He had been intimidated at first by their fancy clothes, but seeing the group bickering like children reminded the young apprentice that they were about his age.

He had forgotten how loud peacocks could squawk.

"Stop it, both of you!" The tall boy shouted angrily, "In case you haven't noticed, there's a war on outside! Daemons are eating people! So stop squabbling like little fools!"

"Oh, let them have at each other, Ryeth," Nadir chortled as he sank into the velvet cushions and leaned to the side roguishly, "If they tear themselves to pieces at least we won't have to listen to them screech."

Markl gave a start as the door beside him clicked open without a sound. The red wizard strode into the room holding something in his hands.

"What's all this?" Barimus' voice cut through the din, reducing all the apprentices to silence as they shot to their feet. The red wizard surveyed the room with an icy stare, freezing the hot words that lingered unsaid.

"What's that in your hand, uncle Barimus?" Markl asked quickly to distract the elder wizard from the situation before him.

"Uncle?" The words flew unbidden from the red haired boy's lips and the apprentice cowed, dropping his eyes as Barimus cast his cold gaze in his direction. Markl at once regretted calling his uncle by his familial title as Nadir cast a veiled but seething glance in his direction.

"Forgive me, Markl. I forgot to introduce you," Barimus spoke in a charming voice as he smiled at his nephew, "These are the eldest apprentices studying under the members of the Council. Like you, they have offered to help protect the capital against the daemons outside."

Here he paused and his face fell stern once more as he swept his eyes over the group of young witches and wizards.

"However, if my ears don't deceive me, I believe that all I hear are kids. Children, my I introduce to you Markl Jenkins, the eldest apprentice of the Wizard Howl the Wallmaker."

The sandy haired boy knew his uncle meant well by introducing thus, but he could feel the rift between he and the other apprentices widening as the truth of his identity sank in. He had scored some points with the apprentices when he distracted the wizard from the argument. Unfortunately that meant nothing now. They no longer regarded him with lofty dismissal, but instead with wary gazes and guarded eyes. Markl knew in that moment that these witches and wizards would not be his friends. The young apprentice shrank once more under the weight of a different kind of truth, and he found himself wishing he could disappear into his cloak.

He was alone again.

"Now, as for what I have in my hands," Barimus spoke up briskly. The bright lights in the red wizard's eyes infected the other apprentices with curiosity as he stepped forward holding the velvet shrouded object in his hands reverently, "That too shall be revealed."

Barimus stepped over the cushions as a few of the quiet apprentices scooted out of the way. He gently drew back the red cloth with a flourish, no doubt having staged the event for the most dramatic effect. As he stepped back from pedestal a large crystal orb sat on its apex. The perfect sphere was completely unclouded, reflecting the room in reverse as it curved endlessly towards some imaginary point. Markl realized he was staring at the orb, the insistent buzzing in the back of his head drowning out all sound.

"Set aside the staff and come sit with us, Markl."

The sandy haired boy looked at his uncle, who had seated himself on a cushion among the young boys and girls. He hesitantly set aside Suliman's stick and went to sit beside the red wizard, noting that Nadir filled the space next to the blonde man. For some reason the juxtaposition of the three of them felt significant to Markl, and the buzzing in the back of his head agreed. Barimus sat staring at the crystal ball, hunched with anticipation as he placed his palms on his knees.

Instantly he was no longer the Lord Councilor or the Royal Wizard of Ingary, the red wizard insinuated himself into the crowd of apprentices as though he were a peer. As such, he commanded their complete attention and respect while at the same time convincing them that they were one group working as a whole. Markl marveled at his uncle's ability to win over any crowd. Finally anticipation reached its breaking point and one of the quite apprentices spoke up.

"What is it?" The mousy young woman whispered in excitement.

"It's a crystal ball," Trissa spoke snootily.

"Yes, it is a crystal ball. But not just any one," Barimus spoke and the apprentices once again hushed at his words.

"Whose is it?" Another of the quiet ones asked.

"It's Suliman's," Markl spoke softly as he gazed intently at the crystal. Barimus looked sharply at his nephew and for a moment the powerful persuasion he held over the group almost broke.

"Yes, it is the late Royal Witch Suliman's crystal ball. Do you know what to do with it?" Barimus spoke gravely, never taking his eyes off his brother's apprentice. But Markl would not meet his gaze and remained silent.

"If we focus, it will show us anything we want," Nadir spoke assuredly.

The red haired boy was also staring at the orb with an intense gaze. A fey look crept into his eyes as his hair stirred in the otherwind. The reflections in the orb flickered and the sphere went bright for a moment, showing an ancient wizard. Several apprentices gasped at the vision of the old man in the glass. Almost all the color seemed to have faded from him, like an old painting too long exposed to the sun. His face was creased with an intense look. The image pulsed and disappeared.

"Who was that?" Markl half exclaimed in wonder.

"My master, the great Wizard Tirut, eldest of the Council," Nadir preened haughtily.

"Very good, Nadir, that's exactly right," Barimus complimented the young apprentice, obviously impressed in spite of the boy's ego trip. The red wizard leaned back as he gazed at the crystal as though deep in through. Then he shifted his gaze to meet the eyes of each of the young witches and wizards around the pillar.

"The sphere will show you anything you want if you think hard enough. It relatively easy to find and see something that you know is already there. However, it is very hard, near impossible, to see anything at all if you don't know what you're looking for or where to find it.

"That's why we need your help. The witches and wizards on the Council are currently doing everything in their power to keep the city's shields up. Although the sword we wield against the daemons is a double edged. The barrier keeps the daemons in, but it also keeps reinforcements out. We can't risk opening a portal or lowering even a portion of the shield lest the daemons try to force their way through.

"That leaves the Wizard's Guard alone to hunt down the bits of dark that have somehow gotten past the Wall. But we're at a disadvantage. The daemons can see us, but we can't see them. Up until now we've been using ourselves as bait to draw them out into the open. But the consequences…"

Barimus paused as melancholy seeped into his eyes, but only for a moment. The red wizard shot to his feet and made a sweeping gesture toward the sphere, his face alive with enthusiasm.

"That is where you all come in, my young apprentices! With your help we will be able to track down the daemons so we no longer send our forces into the fray with blind eyes. What say you, eh?"

"But, you said it was impossible," one of the more timid apprentices spoke up.

"Not if you work together," Barimus grinned at her and the little girl blushed, a hopefully look replacing the doubt in her eyes. "Besides," he continued, "You'll have help."

Suddenly there was a brisk knock on the door to the chamber and all the apprentices jumped. Markl smirked at the sly look in his uncle's eyes. The Royal Wizard had probably planned this little event down to the very second.

"Ah! Here she is," Barimus beamed as he strode to the door and threw it open. Cyanine entered in a very business-like manner and saluted the red wizard. The Lord Councilor drew backwards, indicating the crimson uniformed witch with an upturned palm.

"Dear, apprentices. May I present Lady Cyanine, Captain of the Royal Wizard's Guard and my personal messenger. She will relay directly to her troops what it is you see in Suliman's crystal ball."

With that he strode past the blonde woman, who blinked with surprise as the red wizard. Barimus paused in the threshold as he cast a radiant smile over all the occupants in the room.

"We're counting on you. But don't worry; I have complete faith in all of you."

The door closed with a soft click, leaving Cyanine with an uncertain expression on her face. She turned and looked at the apprentices with apprehension. Markl wilted slightly at the expression on the poor messenger's face. The red garbed woman fidgeted for a moment, then came over and sat on the cushion the Royal Wizard had occupied a moment ago.

"What are we doing?" She whispered to Markl as the rest of the apprentices squinted or frowned at the crystal ball with dubious expressions.

"Looking for daemons," Markl replied equally furtively, although their conversation was not missed by Nalir.

The haughty young man regarded Markl with a snarky smile as he shifted his gaze to the sphere. The colors within it swirled and shifted to reveal the dark streets of Kingsbury. Several of the other apprentices gasped and twittered and Tirut's apprentice straightened smugly. Cyanine regarded the orb mildly and then snorted dismissively.

"That's not going to get you anywhere," the captain of the wizard's guard spoke plainly.

Nalir seemed shocked and as he flicked his green eyes to the blonde witch the orb went clear. His dismay quickly melted into irritability as he glowered at the red garbed woman, crossing his arms.

"And what is that?" Nalir asked haughtily.

"Because you're looking for daemons, not streetlamps; keep that up and that's all you'll see. Have you ever seen a daemon from beyond The Dull Wall?" Cyanine asked in the same manner that a person would ask someone if they had seen a goat or a bird.

"No," The red haired apprentice flushed in humiliation as he replied begrudgingly. Markl loved Cyanine in that moment.

"You can't scry something without first knowing what you're looking for," she pronounced evenly.

"But Barimus said…" Nalir began.

"_Lord Councilor_ Barimus," Cyanine corrected, making the young boy color dark enough to match his hair.

"Fine! You do it!" He snapped nastily as he stood and went to sit somewhere else in the circle.

It was the captain's turn to flush in consternation as she eyes the crystal ball hesitantly.

"I can't," she replied in a grim voice. Out of the corner of his eye Markl could see Nalir, a gloating expression on his face.

"What do you mean you can't? Haven't you been fighting the daemons?" Trissa demanded in a tumult of words that barely separated into a sentence.

"Surely you must have seen one," Ryeth asked as he easily looked over the horsy girl's head to regard the red garbed soldier.

"I can't scry." Cyanine replied shortly, "As you shall soon learn, not every apprentice has the ability to become a full-fledged witch or wizard. Those with singular strengths often join the Wizard's Guard. My talents for magic lie in communication. That's why Barimus sent me here, to relay the location of the daemons you find to our troops on the streets."

"We can't do it without a real wizard's help," Hedera half screeched, a bit of hysteria creeping into her voice, "What good are you to us if you can't scry?"

The captain of the Ingarian Wizard's Guard went pale with rage and was about to give the blonde apprentice a piece of her mind when Markl spoke up.

"I can find them," his voice sounded loud and confident in his ears, like the voice of a stranger. Suddenly the whole room was looking at him and he no longer felt nearly so sure of himself. Markl had scryed for things before; it was a lot like listening for conversations with his inner ear. But he had never tried something like this before.

"What makes you think you can scry daemons it if Captain Cyanine can't?" The anonymous apprentice with a mousy appearance quipped.

"I bet you've never even seen a daemon," Someone snapped nastily from across the room. Markl was inclined to believe it was a certain red haired someone.

"On the contrary, he has. Why else would Lord Councilor Barimus have brought him here?" The Royal Wizard's messenger's reply silenced the room. But by that time Markl was ignoring them.

The adopted son of the Wallmaker stared at the sphere on the pillar and the world around him grayed. He experienced a most disconcerting feeling of being pulled inside out as he felt his mind separate from his body. The insubstantial feeling was terrifying, making him feel helpless since only the power of his inner eye remained within his control. Regardless, Howl's apprentice bent the full force of his will on drawing forth the vile memories of the daemons he had encountered. The visions oozed like abhorrent slugs through the corridors of his mind, slipping beyond the grasp of his magic as he tried to force them into the crystal sphere.

The room's occupants snapped their attention once more to the orb as the topsy-turvy reflection of the room was suddenly replaced by twisting images. Unlike before, the pictures were not clear. They faded and morphed like a kaleidoscope turned on an unfamiliar world, distorting through hundreds of colors and unrecognizable shapes. But the brighter colors turned to night as a clouded darkness seemed to fill the orb.

Markl shuddered in revulsion as the being in his memory brushed past his inner sight, he felt like he was being coated in filth. Suddenly, an unexpected stab of red and black fire exploded from the dim shapes in the crystal like the lance of evil. Several of the apprentices in the room jumped; one even shrieked, probably Hedera, who was notoriously high strung. An enormous pressure settled over Markl, it pulled at his mind with such a compelling force that he let go of his hold on the image.

"There's one!" Cyanine shouted fiercely as she pointed at the spiral of black that dwindled into a lazy miasma, "Quick! Focus on that. Pull with the power of your mind and force it to come back."

It felt as though a weight had been lifted from Markl's mind as twelve sets of eyes fixed on the crystal ball. The russet haired apprentice could feel the influence their magic as though it were a tangible thing. The group of young witches and wizards caught hold of the daemon's presence and hauled out of obscurity. The image in the orb snapped into clarity and it showed the grassy lawn of a park somewhere in the capital. At the foot of a tree a disembodied shadow circled impatiently; suddenly it was joined by another, and then a third and a fourth. From time to time the insubstantial shades leapt up into a twisting fury of red flame as they searched hungrily for something living to destroy.

"Wrath daemons," the Royal Wizard's messenger spoke sharply, "Don't pull too hard, kids. You don't want to bring them here."

The image flickered for a moment as a few of the apprentices, including Markl, experienced trepidation over bringing a daemon into the room.

"Concentrate!" Nalir snapped from across the room, and the image solidified. The red haired apprentice was quite powerful and would be of great help, Markl admitted begrudgingly. But he was still a jerk.

Cyanine suddenly settled back again the cushions, whereas once before she had been sitting bolt upright. Reaching up, the blonde witch touched her fingers to the amber jewel that hung from her ears. They flickered with inner light as the witch made a psychic telephone call to her comrades.

"Peoter-Deiter?" The two names flowed together into a single word and as she spoke her eyes faded in color, "Four wrath daemons are under the oak trees at Gerhard Park. You know what to do."

She blinked and flinched, going green for a moment as a wave of nausea passed over her face. As the messenger witch dropped her hands the color of her eyes returned to normal. Casting a hard gaze over the young apprentices in the room, Cyanine frowned and shifted her gaze to the late Witch Suliman's crystal ball.

"All right kids, let those go; time to find some more."

Markl realized it was going to be a long night.

xXx

Sophie stared at the cold woman, finding it hard to feel anything but shock. But that didn't last long.

The little girl lunged forward, her mouth moving soundlessly as she reached desperately for the mother she had never known. But her captor had her by the arm and hauled her backwards with surprising strength. A blinding rage seized the silver haired witch and she managed to gain her feet.

_Let her go! _Sophie commanded in a thundering voice, in spite of the fact that she could barely stand.

Mrs. Danna regarded the wife of the Wallmaker with a cryptic expression, which melted into a sly smile as she released the struggling girl.

_Alright, Drie. You may go to your mother._ The woman's voice flashed hard and unfeeling, showing in her mind like a bit of frozen steel.

Foreboding flooded Sophie's heart as her daughter rushed towards her with open arms. In a flash of intuition she recalled the manner in which the star daemons had faded and flickered when they laid their hands upon her. She realized all at once that the Dull Wall, which was consuming her greedily, would also try to devour anyone it could reach even if it meant going through her.

_No!_ Sophie threw out her arms in warning as Drie drew close enough to touch her outstretched palms.

The little girl's face had been alight with joy, her arms held open to embrace her mother for the first time. But the look of love on her daughter's face faltered as she interpreted her mother's desperate refusal to touch her as rejection. Suddenly Drie's face pinched with confusion and terror as she realized how old her mother had become. Her mouth moved soundlessly as a torrent of words spilled from her unheard, but the child made her desire plain by reaching for her mother insistently.

Drie was still too young to mind speak and Sophie's knees buckled under the cruelty of the fate that had brought her to her lost child. They could neither touch nor talk. Kneeling in front of her daughter, the silver haired woman touched the black band at her throat and motioned to the Wall beyond her. As she gazed at her daughter hopefully, she realized how much they looked alike. They had the same face and the same thick silver hair. The one difference was that Deirdre had inherited Howl's blue eyes. In that moment she also realized her daughter was wearing her blue earrings and for some reason this gave her hope.

The hope was fleeting.

Apparently the little girl didn't understand because she started forward again and her mother had to scramble backwards to avoid touching her daughter. Drie stopped short and stared at Sophie with incredulous blue eyes, which filled with sadness. The fragile hope that had filled the little girl crumbled to pieces as she buried her face in her hands and began to cry. She vacillated wildly through a series of half formed gestures that were empty, feeble, and did nothing to help. The silver haired witch could only stare mutely at her daughter as heartrending anguish robbed her of all ability to think.

Hateful laughter glinted in Sophie's mind as Mrs. Danna approached.

Apparently Drie could hear her because she flinched and stopped crying, shrinking from the imposing figure. Sophie straightened and threw a protective arm in front of her daughter as their captor loomed over them. Drie's mother stared up at the green garbed woman as a deepening revelation sliced through the blinding fury that threatened to steal away all her rational thoughts. There was an unsettling familiarity in the cold woman's features; Sophie could see it in the shape of her chin, the regality of her face, and the grey color of her eyes. She did not need magic to see that this woman was a younger version of the late Royal Witch Suliman.

_You're Suliman's sister! _Sophie gasped.

Mrs. Danna's face fell blank for a moment as her laughter ceased. A vicious mask of hatred twisted her features into obscurity as a great blossom of black shadows erupted from beneath her feet. Sophie recoiled and threw up her other hand in unconscious terror as the collection of daemons trapped within the cold woman sprang into being. They clawed at the ground, burning the verdant green of the rolling hills into ash, fluttering mournfully about her skirts like the sulphorous flames of a hellish fire. And yet the grass around her frosted over as though she were a living glacier. It was then that the silver haired witch realized, regardless of her kinship to Suliman, Mrs. Danna was no longer human.

_Release The Door_! Mrs. Danna snarled at Drie, who cowered behind her mother.

The little girl trembled, but shook her head, refusing the woman's command. The daemon collector glowered at Sophie's daughter with such malice her gaze could have melted stone. Mrs. Danna clapped her hands in a blurred movement and the garret around the silver witch's neck tightened. Sophie fell over and writhed in pain as the Wall ravaged the lingering threads of her being.

Drie gaped in horror as the silver haired woman aged before her eyes and then scrambled to grapple with tiny hands the parasitic cord that was strangling her mother. Sensing new food, the Wall extended its ravenous appetite to the little girl. It was as though the years fled from Deirdre; she stretched in size and her hair grew in length as her face wrenched with agony. With enormous effort she was able to let go and stumbled back onto the grass.

Mrs. Danna clapped again and a wave of pressure washed over them as the Wall's assault ceased. Deirdre stared at her hands in horror and ran her fingers over the stranger's face that was her own. In the seconds that she had her hands on the line, the girl aged three years. Looking at her mother the girl realized that Sophie had wasted further now appearing as a ninety year old woman.

Exhausted and nearly spent, the silver sorceress lay sprawled in the grass. In terror the woman's daughter realized her mother was beginning to fade away, the green hills showing plainly through her hands. In that moment Drie realized she had changed more ways than in physical appearance. She could see and hear with disorienting new senses; looking at her mother with her othersight, she realized the witch would not survive another attack.

_If I open the Door, will you promise not to harm my mother? _Drie's voice rang out clearly in the otherworld.

Mrs. Danna regarded the girl she had raised with open disgust, but gave an acquiescing nod.

Standing, the Wallmaker's daughter walked towards the great black barrier that loomed up into the starless indigo sky. Her skin crawled as the grass beneath her feet turned brown and crumbled to ash. As she stopped close enough to touch the Dull Wall a pool of shadows gathered beneath her feet. It stretched and snapped out to join with the hungry charcoal bricks. A fountain of dark liquid to rose up out of the membrane, coalescing to form the empty woman. It stared at her with black eyes devoid of all feeling and Deirdre recoiled in revulsion from the fact that this daemon lived somewhere inside of her soul.

_Don't! _Sophie called weakly and her daughter cast a look over her shoulder the silver sorceress. She knew her mother was dying and she had no choice.

Drie lunged at the empty woman and pushed it against the dark barrier. The door daemon struggled and screeched silently, but the Wallmaker's child was stronger. She forced it into the hungry black stones and snatching back her hands. Slowly, charcoal sand seemed to pour away from the surface of the Dull Wall as the constant otherwind snatched into the crevices, revealing a door that formed from the very brick and mortar of the. However, the membrane remained. It linked Deirdre to the Dull Wall, although the daemon intermediary prevented her from being consumed.

_Open it! _Screeched Mrs. Danna.

Reaching out, Drie turned the latch and opened the portal. A scorched wind buffeted her face as she stared into the burned wastes beyond the Dull Wall. The scarlet suffering of the plains of pain boiled like molten rage beyond the doorway, threatening to rush through and destroy everything in that frozen moment of twilight doom.

* * *

I'm going to be gone for a while. I have to take care of some school stuff. But I'm writing in every spare moment I have, don't you worry. I'll get this done sooner or later :)


	4. Chapter 4: The Fractured Mask

**Twilight Doom: Part ****III**** of the Wallmaker Saga**

**Chapter 4: The Fractured Mask**

The first thing Howl did after leaving their room was take a bath.

As the narrow bathroom filled with hyacinth scented steam, the Wallmaker settled into the scalding hot water. Dragging a washcloth off of the rail, he soaked it and draped it over his face, breathing in the cloying vapor. The raven-haired man reminisced over the great claw-footed bathtub that all but filled the bathroom. The wizard remembered having magiked it's feet to life and riding in it all the way to the top of the hill in Porthaven, where his first magic shop stood. It was the only tub he had ever found that could accommodate his lanky body. Howl did so hate having to tuck up his legs while in the bath because his knees always got cold. He had transported the tub into the castle when he and Calcifer expanded beyond their meager beginnings. Howl would do anything to avoid being pinned down in any one place, but he would not leave behind his porcelain bathtub.

Baths always made him feel better.

During the Mardan war, he liked to soak for hours after returning home from the fires and suffering. While the curse had been upon him, he fought a battle in the beyond to prove to himself that he could still feel in spite of the emptiness in his chest. The rage and the remorse he felt for the suffering of the common people drove him to great lengths to prevent what damage he could. But his magic made him a monster. As such, while in the mortal world he was desperate to smell of sweet flowers and look dazzlingly handsome so he could ignore the intense grief he felt over the slow loss of his humanity. As he soaked he felt human again and all the little aches and kinks in his body melted away.

All except for one, which ached like a frozen thorn within his heart.

Not even a boiling cauldron could ease the tightness in his chest. But Howl veered from those thoughts and ducked his head under the water. As the thin man surfaced, he began viciously scouring his back with a bristled brush and rose scented soap. After what felt like hours of scrubbing, his pale skin was pink from his ministrations. Standing, he wrung the water from his hair and reached for one of the perfectly folded towels that hung from the rail beneath the shelf. The stinging shock that went through him almost forced him to sit back into the tub. Sophie had folded these, only she could make corners this straight. Howl stared at the towels for what seemed like hours, then snatched one up. He wrapped it around his waist, desperately pushing such thoughts away as he focused on keeping his mind blank.

Howl dragged a hand across the fogged mirror and stared at his solemn reflection. These were the eyes of a stranger. He had always been thin; it was a side effect of using magic. But the foreign man's wild raven hair made the face look severe and gaunt. Dark circles rimmed the bloodshot eyes, making them look large and mournful. The ghost of a beard covered the man's face, making his pale skin look dirty. Howl felt an intense pang of fury at the disheveled state of the person in the mirror. Seizing his razor from the shelf adjacent from the skin, he snatched up his lathering brush and began to shave with such precision that any hint of the beard disappeared.

Rummaging among the tubes and vials of cosmetics he had not touched in years, Howl fished out everlasting creams and lotions to erase the marks of bereavement that showed on his face. He even tweezed his eyebrows into perfect arches, leaving not a single hair out of place. The wizard finished the treatment by brushing out the tangles in his thick tresses, trimming his bangs with a cut so straight it could only have been done by magic. Dousing himself with drying powder, Howl pulled on a clean set of clothes. He noted with a sour frown that the shirt was too big. Hadn't Sophie just made it? Again the stab of anguished seized him, pulsing like a gaping wound within his breast, and he clamped his hands onto the sink to keep himself on his feet.

What good was a heart to a man with half a soul?

He stared at the face again and the mirror reflected the flawless mask of the stranger. The man was handsome, but delicately so, with smooth alabaster skin and a refined angular features. The face smiled a dazzling smile, but its warmth never reached the trembling corridors of its luminous cerulean eyes. The wizard reached over to the shelf and slipped the emerald necklace over his head as he clipped on the matching bright green earrings that had once been his father's. Howl brushed his hair once more, making sure he looked absolutely perfect. He stared intently at his reflection, trying to find any crack in the visage, any hint that something was wrong.

But the face in the reflection was immaculate.

The face in the mirror was a lie and the handsome man's smile mocked him cruelly. The wizard marveled at how deceiving appearances could be. How was it possible to seem complete when he felt as though his insides had shattered? Howl glanced once more to the shelf and the sapphire blue stone glimmered in the light from the lamp overhead like a bit of ice. The Wallmaker waited for the pain to come, but it didn't this time. He did not know what was worse, the raw ache of loss or the cold hollow feeling that invaded him now, leaving him empty. He reached out and swept the necklace from the shelf, stuffing it in his pocket as he turned his eyes toward the window. A warm grey light had begun to thaw the navy night sky.

It was almost morning. The boys would need breakfast.

As the wizard opened the bathroom door, he was brought up short as he came face to face with Calcifer. The little flame flickered in the air and phased through a series of colors, moving from a sickly green to an anxious blue.

"Hi, Howl," Cal spoke softly, at a loss as he gazed at his friend with large eyes.

"G'morning, Cal," the raven-haired man smiled broadly and felt his mask crack.

He pushed past the fire daemon and went down the stairs as quickly as he could, lest his façade shatter to match how he felt inside. The raven-haired man gathered himself against the memories that threatened to consume him. But he was weak. As the wizard came to stand in the middle of their living room memories rushed through the fragile defenses of his denial like a flock of singing birds. The phantoms scattered about the room and Howl was overwhelmed. Sophie was everywhere around him, from the way their mud boots gathered in a tidy row beneath the sink to the perfectly arranged tea cups on the side board. He could hear her almost like she was with him. The brisk steps of her tiny feet echoed in his hollow soul. The Wallmaker staggered again under the weight of his grief as he reached out and touched the chair at the table in which his wife always sat. He could smell her clean linen scent and Sophie's laughter filled his mind like the warm morning light that streamed in the windows. But the only sun that had the power to melt the cold sorrow within him had gone where even wizards could not go. And so he wasleftbehind, broken and bereaved. The wizard had hoped to ignore the pain like he had so many times before. But it was not possible! Howl was good at avoiding the unpleasant, but how could he forget the queen of his heart?

Calcifer darted down from upstairs and settled into the hearth as he regarded his companion from the ashes. As Howl cast his eyes about the room wildly, which blurred under the tears that threatened to fall, the wizard gripped Sophie's chair and was suddenly at a loss for what to do. He shoved his hands into his pockets and withdrew them quickly as his hand touched the sapphire stone.

"I missed you." Cal piped softly from the fireplace.

Howl cast his eyes toward the daemon and came to sit before the little flame. They sat together in silence for a long time and the grey twilight outside melted into a rosy sunrise in the garden. Heen's claws clicked on the floorboards as the dog emerged from the curtain that covered the doorway to Granny Witch's room. The fat little creature came and sat on the wizard's feet, looking up at him with large eyes as his tail thumped the floor vigorously. The raven haired man reached down at patted his head.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Calcifer spoke solemnly, trembling smaller as he tinged a melancholy blue.

The crack grew longer.

Howl withdrew into himself, hiding his eyes beneath his bangs. He shook his head in a violent motion, not trusting his voice at that moment. The fire daemon sniffed loudly and crackled a ruddy orange.

"You stink like dead flowers, Howl."

The wizard emerged from beneath his hair and gave his friend a brittle, albeit genuine smile. Speaking of smells, Howl detected a hint of spicy herbs and cinnamon and he cast his eyes to the coat rack. A plain grey coat hung amongst his family's things, the hem was caked with mud. He also noticed that Markl's patchwork cloak was missing.

"Is Martha here?" Howl asked suddenly.

"Yeah, she's been watching the boys," Cal replied and the wizard noted his statement was devoid of insults or curses for the herbalist's presence in the castle.

"Have you two made up finally?"

"Yeah," Cal frowned and looked away as he colored rosily in embarrassment, "She wouldn't let the blonde one take the kids away, so I guess Martha's alright."

Howl cast his eyes back at the coat rack, a nervous premonition bringing his attention back to the empty hook where his eldest son's cloak should have hung.

"Cal, where is Markl?"

The little daemon was quiet. Howl turned his eyes back to the little flame, which was doing his best to glow a sleepy yellow. But the daemon's flickers of green betrayed his worries.

"Calcifer?"

"He left for the palace late last night," the flame daemon snapped guiltily, his voice deep with remorse.

"WHAT?" Howl nearly knocked over his chair as he stood. Heen gave a start and darted under the curtain back into Granny Witch's room. Calcifer blazed up, going an angry red as he rose to eye level with the wizard.

"I couldn't stop him without leaving the castle. I had no idea how long you were going to stay in your room. I didn't want to leave you, Howl. Besides, who would have protected Shan and Martha if something had tried to come in?"

"Why?" Howl whispered fiercely and Calcifer regarded him with a grimace.

"To protect us; he took Suliman's stick with him," the daemon replied flatly.

In an efficient manner that only a daemon could manage, Calcifer related to Howl the events of the past few days. The revelation shocked the lanky man into silence. As he listened, the Wallmaker stared fiercely into the shadows beyond the little flame, his mind working vigorously to digest what he learned. Much had happened while he lay oblivious to the world. It was significant that the staff had accompanied Markl to the capital. The staff of his late mistress was a powerful magical heirloom, so old and it had become half sentient after being handled by so many witches and wizards. It was very picky about who it would let handle it. The wizard lifted his hands to the jewels at his ears and pictured his eldest son in his mind.

"Markl!"

He combined the word with a probing thought, binding them into a seeking arrow, which he let fly towards the capital of Ingary guided by the invisible compass of his magic. The emeralds sparkled for a moment and Howl eyes flashed luminously as he received a reply from the amethyst earrings Markl was wearing. His son was with his uncle in the palace; he was safe and that was all that mattered. The raven-haired man turned his thoughts back on the hazy memories. His apprentice had come into his room, hadn't he? But Howl had not listed to a word he said.

His mask cracked again, and the Wallmaker sank back into the chair before the fire; hiding his face in his hands.

"I'm sorry, Calcifer," Howl murmured between his fingers, "You were right to stay with our family."

"It's okay, Howl," sinking back onto the edge of the hearth the flame colored a rosy-yellow, twisting to peer up at the wizard, "You're back. That's all that matters."

Howl gave a start and emerged from the mire of his guilt as a door overhead opened and closed. Soft steps heralded the descent of a little girl about Markl's age. She had curly red hair that twisted into knots at her temples and the wizard noticed she had a leaf in her hair. This was Martha's apprentice; indeed the two of them dressed alike, right down to the mud on her pants. The girl's face had as many freckles as the sky had stars, and she came to a halt nervously on the landing as she caught sight of him. Blinking bright green eyes, the young apprentice flushed as red as her hair and clutched at a garden hoe in her hands. For the life of him Howl couldn't remember her name.

"Um, good morning, Master Howl." She stammered shyly as she bobbed a curtsy, avoiding his curious gaze.

"Hey, kid. What are you doing up so early?" Cal crackled nosily from the hearth.

"My _name_ is Theresa!" She frowned and crossed her eyes at the fire daemon. The little flame sputtered indignantly and stuck out his tongue at the herbalist's assistant.

"Good morning, Theresa," Howl spoke and beckoned her to him, his eyes on the garden hoe in her hands. "Did Markl make you that?"

"Yes, he did!" She brightened, her cheerful personality unfolding before him like a flower turning its face to the sun, "It works wonderfully! We flew so high that I could see all of Kingsbury. I haven't got a stitch of magic in me, so it was so amazing to finally be able to fly."

She faltered and fidgeted as she blushed again, "Martha was awfully mad with us because we fell in the pond! It wasn't Markl's fault, Master Howl. He made it for me so you shouldn't be mad at him."

Howl held up his hand in a gentle motion that silence the girl's half formed tumbling explanation.

"It's quite alright, Theresa. I'm not mad. May I see it?"

The red-haired girl passed him the garden hoe and the wizard gazed at the circle of green glass and the feather trapped beneath it. It was an excellent piece of magic, far more advanced that anything Markl should have been able to create at his age. The Wallmaker felt a surge of pride for his son's skill and he smiled to himself as he handed it back to the little girl.

"You can come to the castle whenever you like to practice flying. It'll be good for you both because Markl could use the company."

Howl almost grinned as the little girl as she colored a rosy pink. Another door opened overhead and Shan's booming footsteps stomped down the hall, the little boy appeared as he pounded down the stairs. The Wallmaker marveled on many occasions at how such a tiny boy could make such an enormous amount of noise. Akarshan skidded to a halt on the landing and burst into light as caught sight of his father.

"PAPA!" The child shriek in joy.

"Argh…" Cal moaned and shoved the thin tendrils of his hands where his ears might had been and buried his face in the ashes.

Howl darted to his feet and swept past Theresa as he scooped his son up into a bear hug, burying his face in the little boy's hair.

"I can't breath, Papa!" His son squeaked and Howl lessened the intensity of his embrace long enough to plant a kiss on the top of the boy's head. The wizard swung the little boy around in circle and he shrieked again, laughing out loud as his father proceeded to tickle him mercilessly. Martha came down the stairs at a more sedate pace just as Granny Witch emerged from behind her curtain, a happy Heen following close on her heels.

"Oh, what a noisy little boy," Granny smiled and then stopped as she caught sight of Howl.

"Oh, my dear, dear, handsome man," she snuffled tearfully. The Wallmaker paused and sat Shan down as the old faded witch came over and stood on her toes to hug him. The wizard Howl and the former witch of the wastes had come to an accord over the years. They were family now, and that was the truth of the matter. Besides, every good castle needs an old witch.

"Hello, Granny," Howl mumbled in a hoarse voice as he patted the old woman's shoulder, doing his best not to let his composure fail.

"Shall we make breakfast, Granny?" Martha asked as she came forward and disentangled the faded witch from her brother in law as she guided the old woman to her chair.

"Oh course, dear. How nice of you to offer," Granny witch replied ingenuously, "I'd like some tea and some honey buns. Did dear Mrs. Fairfax teach you make honey buns? I do so love honey buns."

Howl was grateful for the herbalist's keen sensitivity, and he had a moment to regain his self-control before his son pulled on the hem of his shirt.

"Papa, papa, papa! Guess what I made for you?" Shan stared up at the tall man as he wrapped his arms around the wizard's knees.

The little boy drew back as Howl kneeled with his hands on his knees, still a head taller than his youngest son. He peered down at Shan as the child fished in his pocket and pulled out a bit of crystal. As the Wallmaker's son dropped it into his father's hand a glowing star erupted out of the clear stone, shining like a rainbow haloed comet. The tiny illusion wavered and danced like a frolicking stream, swirling and whirling like the tides of the sea. The thrill of recognition that passed through the elder wizard left him feeling cold and tingling as his gazed riveted on the tiny image of the star daemon.

"I saw him in a dream, Papa. I asked the star to help you get better again, but he said he couldn't come here. So I made you an image charm instead. And it worked because you're not sick anymore!" The little boy exulted as he danced a happy dance and clapped his hands.

But Howl wasn't listening to what his son was saying. His thoughts were elsewhere. Shan was his father's son; he had an enormously strong gift of magic in spite of the fact that it had been late to bloom. Each day the little boy was learning by leaps and bounds, mostly because of Markl's patience. The wizard did most of their teaching as a group, although Howl's eldest son tutored the boy and his mother in their spare time. Sophie loved to watch the boys learn.

"It's beautiful, Shan. Thank you," Howl murmured, closing his fist around the stone and placing it in his empty pocket.

For the second time that morning the wizard scooped his son into his arms, tucking the little boy's head under his chin. Inside his chest the pain in his trembling heart was replaced by a different kind of ache, one that was born of love. A man with half a soul may not need his heart; but a father surely did.

Standing with his son in his arms the Wallmaker gazed around the living room, watching his family bustle about. Martha was brandishing a frying pan and glowering at Calcifer, who met her stalwart gaze with open defiance. Somehow the herbalist managed to cross her arms without setting the skillet down as she towered like a stony monolith. The little flame rolled his eyes and bowed down his head just as Theresa brought over the egg basket and a platter of bacon. Granny witch was knitting some kind of hat and talking absently to Heen who was curled in her lap, regarding her with large doggy eyes. So much had changed and yet so little had changed. But in that moment Howl had hope that everything would be alright.

"Papa, you're squishing me again," Shan gasped.

"Sorry, Shan. You're very squishable this morning," Howl grinned at his son as he shifted the boy onto his hip.

"Whatcha looking at, Papa?" Shan frowned with intense curiosity as he turned his blue eyes to regard the room.

"Our family," The wizard replied.

"Breakfast!" Martha called as she began scooping pancakes onto a plate that Theresa brought to her.

"Go help Theresa set the table, Shan," Howl squeezed his son one last time before setting him down and giving him a playful nudge toward the table. The little boy scampered over and gathered plates from the side board as Howl moved over to the hearth. Theresa blushed furiously as the wizard came to stand next to her and took the platter out of her hands.

"Why don't you go help Shan, Theresa?" Howl suggested with a charming smile. The little girl turned and fled as Martha cast a dour look at her husband's brother. She flipped another pancake onto the plate with such finality that she made herself clear in spite of her absolute silence.

"Thank you, Martha," Howl murmured softly, more than one meaning resonating behind his words.

"Can I use magic, Papa?" Shan called and the tall man glanced over his shoulder to see Theresa desperately trying to reach the tea cups on the highest shelf.

"Yes, just don't break anything," Howl laughed at the look of glee on his son's face. Tea cups flew like birds from the shelf and the red-haired herbalist's apprentice clapped her hands in delight. The Wallmaker turned back to see Calcifer peering out at him from under the skillet, a cryptic look in his eyes.

"What?" Howl quipped, and then winced at the sound of ceramic shattering.

xXx

Breakfast was not nearly as difficult as Howl had anticipated it would be.

The semblance of normalcy gave him strength, in spite of the fact that the chair to his right remained empty. As usual, Shan stuffed his face and got syrup all over himself. The little boy sat between Howl and his aunt, who mopped at his face with a towel, frowning stormily. But Shan could care less, he was almost as greedy as Calcifer. Granny witch sipped her tea and nattered on about the weather and the flowers, keeping them all company with her constant chatter. Theresa sat directly across from Howl, a perpetual pink as she stared intently at her foot and ate in silence.

Martha flipped another pancake onto the Wallmaker's plate and he grimaced. The lanky man was never one to eat much. The Herbalist shot an icy glance at him, making it clear he was to finish _everything_ on his plate. Howl crossed his eyes at her when she wasn't looking and Theresa giggled. In spite of the fact that his sister in law was a notorious boss, he had no intentions of finishing his plate. As Martha shot her attention to her apprentice, the elder wizard exploited her moment of distraction to scoop the pancake onto his son's plate.

"Hey!" Shan shrilled petulantly, and scooped the pancake back onto his father's dish. Martha sniffed and served more tea to Granny Witch, turning blind eye to their antics. Howl regarded at the handled cake with a dour frown and then cast a sly glance at Theresa. The little girl regarded him over the rim of her tea cup and then placed her plate in her lap.

"I'll take it!" Calcifer piped from the fireplace. Howl stood in spite of Martha's look of displeasure and slide the remained of his breakfast into the fire daemon's greedy maw.

"Where's Markl?" Shan asked suddenly as he stiffened and looked around. A worried expression had crossed the little boy's face.

"He's with uncle Barimus in the capital," the wizard replied as he turned to regard his son.

"He's not going to go to the place where mommy went, is he?" Shan asked fretfully

Howl gave a start as everyone in the room looked at the six-year old. The anxious feeling that had been gnawing at the back of the wizard's mind burst forth on a wave of intense pain at the mention of his wife. The Wallmaker dropped his plate and it shattered on the ground as he strode forward and kneeled in front of his son. Taking hold of his shoulders the wizard studied the little boy's face.

"Why would you say a thing like that, Akarshan?" The raven-haired man asked fiercely. The little boy shrank from the intensity of his father's attention.

"The star told me that he might have to take Markl there."

"What star? What does this have to do with Sophie?" Howl demanded desperately, a wild look seeping through the cracks in the fragile mask that the wizard wore.

"You're scaring me, Papa!" Shan cried shrilly.

The mask faltered, threatening to shatter.

"Howl," Martha's calm voice pulled the wizard back from the grief stricken emotions that robbed him of sensibility. He stood weakly as the herbalist pulled him to his feet and guided him to the seat before the fire. He barely heard the knock at the front door.

"I'll get it!" Shan called in excitement and zipped across the room to the front stairs.

But Calcifer flared up into a column of white and purple flames. The living fire's thundering voice ripped the Wallmaker back to his senses.

"HOWL, DAEMONS!"

Under the power of his magic, the wizard shot from his seat like the fury of a northern gale, nearly knocking over Martha. A great wind filled the living room as the raven-haired wizard snatched his son back into his arms just as the little boy turned the latch on the front door. A wriggling morass of twisting black and yellow-green fire erupted from the tiny space between the door frames. The wood door scorched and groaned under the weight of the vile being's magic. Shan screamed as the tendrils of the wrath daemon coalesced into obsidian claws and reached for him.

But Howl was there.

The wizard, heir to the power of the Wallmakers, burst into a crackling corona of indigo blue ferocity. With a single flick of his hand the otherwind rushed forward around the door's breech, fed by his magic. It overwhelmed the daemons like the raging torrent of a twisting azure tempest, forcing them out of the castle. The door slammed shut, but it trembled and groaned, rattling in place under the assault from the other side. Howl's fire withdrew inside him as he reached out and turned the magic knob to green. The pounding subsided, but the entire front entry was blackened and scorched, smoldering like a burned log that had been pulled from a fire.

In that quiet moment Howl realized his son was sobbing.

xXx

Cyanine looked absolutely awful.

Magic was not without its consequences. Markl had gained a new appreciation for mind magic by studying the blonde witch's efforts. It took an enormous amount of energy to cast one's voice into the world, especially at a far distance. The skill was very rare and highly valued, hence the woman's position as captain of the Wizard's Guard. The young apprentice watched as his uncle's messenger became more and more ill as the night passed. Cyanine's eyes regained their color as she finished relaying a message. Blinking her eyes repeated, she reached up and held her head in pain.

"Are you alright?" Markl had asked furtively as the other apprentices strained to see wisps of dark in the crystal ball.

Cyanine was trying her best not to wretch and gave an almost unperceivable nod. She glanced at him sideways and again he marveled at her eyes, one was blue and the other was brown. Her face was pale and had a hint of green.

"No, but I'll be fine," she spoke briskly.

"What's wrong? Can I help you somehow?" He continued with concern plain in his eyes.

"My magic is a bit uncomfortable, Markl," She smiled resolutely, "Think about sling-shooting your mind a couple of miles and then yanking it back all within a few seconds. It tends to give me an awful headache. But thank you for your concern."

Markl wasn't too worried; he knew that Cyanine was much stronger than she appeared. Besides, they had not found a daemon in more than two hours. A ray of hope dissolved the fears within him as he considered that perhaps they had banished them all. Working together, the witches and wizards in the capital had banished over twenty five daemons.

"I think it is safe to say we've emerged from the worst of the attacks," the captain of the wizard's guard spoke to the room all of a sudden and the crystal went dark as the apprentices turned their attention to her. "You've done well. No doubt your masters' will be proud. But now you should all try and get some sleep. We will need to start making comprehensive sweeps the entire capitol very soon. For that you'll need to be fully rested."

With that Cyanine flopped back onto the pillows.

"What? You mean for us to sleep here?" The plump apprentice in the pink robe asked incredulously.

"We need to stay together as a group, just in case," the soldier spoke crisply. "Someone should keep watch."

"I will," Markl replied just before Nalir, who looked quite peeked. The red haired boy glowered at him from across the room as the Royal Wizard's messenger accepted the apprentice's offer.

"Good. Nalir, you can take over for Markl in a few hours," the witch replied as she rolled over and buried her face in a cushion, making it clear she was not going to be taking any more questions.

The majority of the apprentices were so exhausted that they followed the captain's example. Soon they all collapsed into huddled piles on the pillows. The grey hours of the early morning passed quickly and they slept soundly.

All except one.

Markl was tired, but he could not sleep. The anxious buzzing in the back of his head had grown insufferable. However, it lessened every time he turned his eyes to the orb that stood on the pillar in the center of the room. Howl's eldest apprentice had been thinking ever since Barimus told him what the crystal ball could do. They had already proved that it was possible to find something even if you didn't know where to look. He was on his own this time, but he was sure he could do it. Carefully going to take a hold of Suliman's staff from where it leaned against the wall, the young wizard stood staring at the empty sphere.

Markl decided he could accept what he found. He had long since realized that the wretchedness of uncertainty was far worse than the painful resolution of knowing. But he could not help harboring hope, mostly because of what Calcifer had said to him before he left the castle. Within the secret corridors of his mind Markl pulled together all the memories of his mother and fixed the iron will of his need upon the late Royal Sorceress' crystal ball.

With a singular resolve, he willed it to show him Sophie.

The orb went opaque for a moment and slowly filled with a velvety indigo hue. Immediately Markl thought of the otherworld and his heart leaped as a point of light gathered in the center of the glass ball. The light fractured and spread like a rainbow from a prism, taking a vague wavering shape as mysterious black eyes blinked at him.

The star daemon's voice resolved from the buzzing that once filled the young apprentice's mind. The silver bells of its song assaulted him anxiously as it tried unsuccessfully to communicate with him. Markl was astonished; the being from beyond the indigo veil was indeed trying to tell him something! He shuddered and recoiled as the cold tendrils of its mind reach through the crystal into the mortal. It gently touched his mind and he realized it meant him no harm. However, it sent an insistent image of Howl, confusing the young apprentice to no end.

"I don't understand," Markl whispered fiercely. "I'm looking for Sophie!"

It was the star daemon's turn to regard him with mystification and it ceased its barrage of chiming tones. After some difficulty, the son of the silver sorceress managed to send the being a mental image of his mother. Markl went cross-eyed and half deaf under the exuberant vehemence of its multi-faceted reply. The thing suddenly latched onto the young wizard's consciousness with the shimmering tendrils of its being and plucked his mind from his body.

The mortal world dissolved around the Wallmaker's son as he fell forward into the center of the crystal orb.


	5. Chapter 5: Vengeance

**Twilight Doom: Part III of the Wallmaker Saga**

**Chapter 5: Vengeance**

The world dissolved into a kaleidoscope of colors that flew upwards about him. The young wizard was rendered speechless by a giddy sense of speed. Markl looked around him with eyes that were not his own as a presence as old as the sky chimed encouragingly within his mind. He realized all at once that he had somehow merged with the Star Daemon and that they were one. The being directed his attention to their surroundings and the Wallmaker's apprentice was filled with trembling awe.

He stared up into the vast mercurial twilight that unfolded before him like the dome of creation. It was nothing and at the same time it was everything. This was a place beyond all things, it was the nowhere that filled the spaces in between worlds. It was creation and it was destruction: the infiniteness that stretched on into eternity was perfectly balance. It was complete and so was he. In the second that he beheld the beyond, the young man was filled with an overwhelming sense of peace as the universe spiral lazily within his mind.

This place might be nirvana, if it truly existed.

Like a glowing arrow released from a bow, the star daemon tore through the barrier between worlds and sailed into the velvet sky of the indigo veil. Markl felt a keen sense of pain as his mind was ripped away from that peaceful place and assaulted by the false security of the otherwind. Together he and the star daemon flew over the green plains, watching the mellow white and blue lights pass beneath them. In the distance, Markl could see where the horizon split to become a thin line of black as a burned redness crept into the cool cobalt sky. Along the wall there was a point of light so bright it could have been the sun.

_Sophie!_

Markl sent the thought to the star daemon. It chimed sadly and suddenly split from him, spiraling off into the distance like a comet. The young wizard flew toward the light, driven by an intense sense of ominousness. The hungry black bricks of the Dull Wall loomed up as he dropped from the sky like an invisible bird. Suddenly Markl realized there were two lights, and the dimmer of the pair was almost eclipsed by the brighter one. They resolved into a young girl and an old woman. The girl could have been Sophie, but she was too young. Markl's heart leapt in joy and horror as he recognized the old woman for his mother as he had first met her. The fragile tendril of hope teetered within his mind as he saw the dark ribbon that seemed to sap away the silver sorceress' light, drawing it backward into the hungry dark bricks of the Dull Wall.

_Markl! _Sophie's anguished voice sliced through the otherwind. His heart thrilled with elation as he turned the full power of his wandering mind to his mother.

A great darkness suddenly emerged from the shadow of the Wall, where once it had been hidden. Markl recoiled in surprise as the evil thing lashed out at him. It was her, the young wizard realized as he caught sight of the daemons that bloomed from beneath the thin woman's feet. It was the cold healer from six years ago. Mrs. Danna reached for him with the power of her magic. But he was already speeding away, compelled backwards by some power greater than the will he exercised to remain with his mother.

Markl whirled backward into the mortal world through a twisting blur of color and wind. He snapped back into his body and immediately doubled in pain as a wave of nausea rose within him like the gorge in his throat. Arm's held him up as his knees tried to buckle and it took a moment for his sense to return to him

"Markl!" The young apprentice heard Barimus' voice.

Howl's eldest son blinked as the light returned to his eyes and he realized Cyanine and the red wizard had their hands under his shoulders. His uncle peered down at him fearfully, his large brown eyes filled with relief as he realized Markl had returned to himself. If he weren't so disoriented the young wizard would have noticed how exhausted his uncle was. But the young boy shook off their hands. He clutched at Suliman's staff as he hauled himself to his feet and started forward toward the crystal orb, which still showed with light.

"She's alive," Markl shouted exultantly as he gazed at the crystal, "Sophie's alive!"

xXx

Drie flinched backwards as the burning wind of the plains of pain boiled like molten rage just beyond the doorway.

But it could not pass. She would not let it.

As long as the door daemon remained linked to the Wallmaker's daughter, the Dark could not come through. Her kinship to the original bloodline of the builders of the barrier made the portal obey her will. The girl remembered the last time Mrs. Danna had forced her to open the door. The daemons that the cold woman let through still haunted her dreams. Drie knew that the daemon collector was letting them loose on the world beyond wherever here happened to be; possibly even the place where they might harm other people. Guilt ravaged her mind as she stared into the charred place devoid of hope.

_Move! _Mrs. Danna barked sharply. Drie realized the former healer was right behind her, her breath like ice upon her neck.

The little girl shrank from her in horror as one of the shades at her captor's feet reached out a tendril of black and grasped a hold of the hem of her shift. The fabric singed and the silver haired child sidled away out of its contact. Drie could not go far because she was bound by the connection to the portal. But the daemon collector was not interested in the Wallmaker's daughter; her eyes were bright with greed as she gazed into the plains of pain. The witch of fire and ice hovered on the threshold between the light and dark like a cat waiting to pounce upon a mouse. The cold woman bared her teeth and stared fearlessly straight into the fury of the Dark. Suliman's sister held one of her hands before her as though she was about to snatch a fish from a stream. And snatch she did.

But her arm stretched long and thin like the parasitic cord that shackled Sophie to the Wall. It broke through the invisible power that held back the waves of rage and hatred as though it was the surface of a pond. As Mrs. Danna drew back her hand, it could be seen that the sleeve of her dress had burned away. But the daemon collector did not seem to care that her flesh had been scorched. In the palm of her hand she held a tiny red flame. It twisted and writhed as though in pain. Drie recognized the vermillion light as one of the suffering daemons from the place beyond the Wall. It was a tortured thing, trapped in a purgatory by its unfortunate doom.

Mrs. Danna gazed in satisfaction at her prize and reached out to slam shut the portal to the scorched world beyond. She snatched her hand back quickly as the door dissolved into the barricade. A moment later droplets of black beaded on the surface of the obstruction and gathered into the liquid shape of the empty woman. The daemon tumbled from the Dull Wall and fell like water onto the dead grass. The inky substance pooled as the shadow withdrew from the barrier and snapped like an arrow back into the depths of Drie's soul. The girl staggered under the weight of the daemon that invaded her like a strong wind, but her eyes never left Mrs. Danna.

The cold woman hunched over the thing she cupped in her hands. Her eyes were bright with fascination as she gazed at the tiny living flame. The former healer held it delicately as though it were some great treasure as she was afraid it would break. But her tenderness was sullied by the ravenous expression that twisted her features.

She devoured it whole.

Mrs. Danna choked and gasped then threw back her head to stare with sightless black eyes at the velvet sky overhead. She trembled violently as the daemons at her feet shuddered and clambered about to make room for several more of their brethren, who erupted from beneath her feet like leaves of a poisonous bloom. As she straightened, Drie watches as the darkness faded from her captor's eyes, leaving behind an insatiable hunger that no food could cure.

In the moments after she fed, the former healer no longer appeared human. Her face was wasted and thin, grey like the surface of parchment paper, marring the regality of her features. A sick yellow glow seemed to emanate from beneath the thin membrane of her skin, made all the more extreme by the dark purple shadows that gathered beneath her eyes. Her clothes hung from her body as though she were made of sticks and her hair fluttered like cobwebs about her face. Mrs. Danna was terrified of daemons, but in order to exact her revenge, the woman had become the one thing she had hated most.

Drie's guardian had not always been like this. There was a distant time where she had been kind and gentle and the girl had almost called her mother. But the tentative kinship the child felt for the woman who had reared was smashed by a betrayal so unanticipated that she sometimes forgot that the former healer had lodged a daemon in her soul. But those who have experienced great suffering share a unique perspective. In spite of all the horrors the daemon collector had inflicted upon her, Drie retained a keen sense of empathy. After living with this woman for six years, the Wallmaker's daughter had learned that at the root of Mrs. Danna's cruelty was the most potent kind of consuming misery, one that was sated only by revenge.

Vengeance is the easiest form anguish cantake.

It was then that Mrs. Danna caught sight of Drie watching her, and the little girl hastily averted her gaze. The daemon queen smiled cruelly, revealing a set of pointed teeth. Over the past year the little girl had watched this woman slowly descend into her madness, driven to great lengths by a need to hurt the ones who had hurt her. The woman had once been a great healer, but her skill did not manifest in magic. The Wallmaker's daughter knew a great deal about the cold woman because she could hear the terrible whisperings of the daemon inside her. Drie knew about the pact she and the Door had made, but like any curse, she was compelled to remain silent.

Mrs. Danna was different, Drie understood that much. She was made formidable by an iron determination and the former healer wielded her fears with swift efficiency. Where once she had been without a stitch of magic, the cold woman gained unearthly power by embracing the abilities of her collection of daemons. However, unlike other people who had lost themselves to the temptations of the Dark, the witch of fire and ice had not been possessed by the loathsome creatures that lived within her. Instead she rode them like a great beast, forcing them to submit to her will. She exploited their strength and power to ruthlessly pursue her vendetta at any cost.

Suddenly a great pressure pulsed through the green hills as nine fiery red comets fell from the indigo veil overhead. The former healer shielded her eyes as she gazed at the meteors as they streaked overhead and crashed into the scorched plains beyond the wall. As their captor was distracted, the little girl placed herself between the daemon collector and her mother.

_Someone is returning my pets to the otherworld_. Mrs. Danna spoke to no one in particular

Suddenly, high overhead a light traced across the indigo veil like a shooting star. Seeing the star Mrs. Danna flinched in horror. But she straightened with intense concentration as another pulse of magic rippled through the green plains. This time it was different. A sentient presence flowed through the otherworld, coloring the inner eye of her mind with violet determination. Drie felt as though a great eye had turned itself upon her, scrutinizing her with great curiosity. Somehow the presence was a familiar and she no longer felt threatened. Drie knew it was looking for them. The great eye seized a hold of her with a fierceness that left her faint and then skipped away to center around Sophie with an exultant ripple. Drie's mother stirred and her eyes snapped open in astonishment as the seeking force revived her.

_Markl!_ Her shout was deafening, fueled by a desperation that made her voice powerful even without magic. The call echoed through the otherworld and into the next.

Mrs. Danna made a cutting motion with her hand and the presence dissolved. The former healer strode forward, her eyes fixed on the weakened silver sorceress with deadly intent as she loomed over them. But Drie barred her way. The young girl did her best not to shrink under the intensity of the daemon witch's eyes at they turned to her. Deirdre straightened her shoulder and set her chin defiantly but stayed well out of reach of her captor's collection of shades. The cold woman regarded the child with a cryptic expression but halted her advance.

Mrs. Danna bared her cruel teeth once more, enjoying the fear that melted away any bravery the little girl had previously felt. But Sophie was unperturbed and she stared at the witch of ice and fire without fear.

_Why are you doing this?_ Sophie demanded, but her voice trembled like a weak shaft of gold light in Drie's mind. Mrs. Danna shifted her eyes back to the Wallmaker's wife, her gaze almost sightless with the rage that filled her. The daemon queen seemed to roar up like a column of great yellow-black fire. She crackled and snarled as the shadows at her feet writhed and drew back, clawing at the ground as they tried unsuccessfully to flee from her in terror.

_You are the vessel of the Wallmaker's line._ _Your husband is responsible for all of this. _Danna thundered in a frenzy of wrath as she gestured wildly at the Dull Wall and into the beyond.

Sophie did not shrink from her as did Deirdre; she had faded too to feel fear for her own life. Her thoughts were with her family and the ones she loved.

_You are kin of the Wallmakers as well! _Sophie called back. _The Wall is not perfect, but it serves its purpose! Our world is not lost, are you blind to that? Whatever your reasons are for hating us, yours is a _personal_ vendetta! What right do you have to make innocents suffer because you seek revenge?_

Sophie's voice was silenced by the hellish chorus of metallic voices that spoke through the daemon collector. Danna stabbed an accusing finger at Sophie, showering the grass with yellow flames.

_This world was sullied once by the hand of our ancestors and by your children The Wall will fall! You call this a personal vendetta? HAH!  
_

_I have seen the prophecy and experienced first hand the despair awaits us all in the doom to come. Yes, I am of the Wallmakers, but I am strong and I will save this world where once our kin failed! The Wallbreaker will be revealed in the struggle to come, I will see to that. And before they can fulfill their doom they will die by my hand. This I have seen and for the sake of our world I will sacrifice my very soul!_

Sophie was rendered speechless by the insane revelations of Suliman's sister. But a cold uncertainty filled her heart with dread. What if it was true? Danna dissolved into a crackling elemental of ice and fire as the ground beneath her feet froze and burned under her fury. Turning eyes of flame to Drie, the daemon collector's voice splintered like a strike of yellow lightening.

_Open the Door to the mortal world! We're going to send a present to one of the Wallmaker's son._

_No! I won't help you hurt people anymore! _The little girl stalwartly refused. Without dwindling in size, the looming flame turned to regard the Wallmaker's wife. Drie gave a violent start as she recognized the unspoken threat.

_You promised you wouldn't hurt her! _Howl's daughter raged incredulously.

_I lied! _Mrs. Danna snapped viciously. _Open it or she dies!_

Deirdre's heart sank. She glanced at her mother and realized Sophie was about to speak. But the silver haired little girl silenced her with a pleading look. The brittle old woman looked hesitant but nodded and turned her face away.

The Wallmaker's daughter took a deep breath and opened her mind to the weight that rested just beneath her heart. It constricted like a vice as a chill filled her, speaking to the daemon always left her feeling as though she were slowly sinking into thick tar. It was difficult to extract herself from the whispering that tried to pull her down into the darkness the pooled beneath her feet. But Drie also had an iron will; survival was an instinct that ran strong even in the youngest of children. After a moment of struggle the daemon obeyed. A shadow stretched out from beneath her feet into the rough rectangular shape of a door.

The witch of fire and ice clapped her hands and a gentle pressure rippled through the otherworld. The door daemon sunk into the ground, showing through to a room that looked oddly familiar to Sophie. The chamber was definitely in the Palace, she could tell by the dark burnished wainscoting and the rich pattered rugs. However, there were four mirrors that stretched from floor to ceiling in each of the four corners. An empty chair sat in the middle of the room and all at once the Wallmaker's wife recognized the late Councilor Raia's chamber. She was about to try to speak once more when again Drie cast a warning glance at her mother, willing her silent.

Mrs. Danna suddenly reached down and tore a shade from beneath her feet. The daemon spasmed in pain as the witch wrung it through her hands viciously. Using her teeth, the former healer tore the being into five pieces, spitting each into her palm before she flung it through the vortex. Suddenly the daemons were dragged back into the cold woman as she stepped forward. As she stood on the edge of the entrance to the mortal world her flames and ice retrieved as she regained a semblance of humanity. The woman paused there for a moment with her back toward the silver sorceress and her daughter.

_You will not be the Wallbreaker, Deirdre. Of that I am certain. _Mrs. Danna spoke without looking at the girl she had raised from a baby. Her voice sounded strange, almost as though something had caught in her throat. _Come with me. Help me save this world. _

She waited on the edge between two worlds for a moment, but received no reply.

_Fine, I have outgrown both you both. Stay here and die with your mother.You will onlyprove that I'm right! _The former healer spat viciously as she stepped forward and dropped out of sight.

As the portal disappeared the daemon snapped back into Deirdre. Her knees buckled once more as a heavy weight settled onto her shoulders. The girl stared at the place where the door had been and realized she and her mother were trapped in the otherworld.

xXx

"She's alive!" Markl repeated again and again.

The young wizard gestured wildly at the orb and looked back at the witch and his uncle. The entire room was staring at him but he didn't care. Barimus' face went white with astonishment at that revelation and he stared at his nephew.

"The star showed me," the young man continued in earnest, making no sense whatsoever, "She's in the otherworld with the silver haired girl. Mrs. Danna…" He began, but his voice failed him as dark tendrils of fog crept over the lingering light in Suliman's orb.

The five trailing bits of smoke were small at first, but then exploded in size as they engulfed the interior of the orb. They pulsed into a wild frenzy, wriggling like putrid crimson worms as they strained to escape the glass.

"Sir, those are in the palace," Cyanine spoke in dread, "How did they get in?"

Barimus' intense gaze was ripped from the orb as somewhere there was a great explosion. The room trembled as dust and plaster fell from the ceiling. Several of the apprentices screamed and started to their feet.

"Call back the troops immediately. Make sure the king is secure and get these apprentices to the shield room," the red wizard spoke quickly to his messenger as he strode to the door and peered out into the hall.

As Cyanine's eyes went pale and distant, Markl crept up beside his uncle and stared off into the darkness at the end of the corridor. In his othersight he could see something wiggling in the shadows, and a thrill of terror sped through him. It took ever fiber of his self control not to give into the urge to eject the contents of his stomach.

"They're already here," Barimus murmured darkly, his golden eyes fierce in the gloom.

"All of you, on your feet!" Cyanine's voice reached Markl and he looked back at the blonde witch as she went around and gathered the apprentices into a group.

"We're going to die!" Hedera wailed hysterically as she turned beet red and began to cry. Even Trissa, the verbacious horsy apprentice was silent, her face pale with fear. Ryden and Nalir stood with uncertainty as the crimson uniformed witch dragged the plumb girl to her feet.

"Shut up! You certainly will die if you don't pull yourself together!" Cyanine snapped in exasperation and the young witch blinked in surprise as though she had been slapped, "All of you listen to me. We're going to the shield room where we will be safe. You are to follow me and no matter what happens, do not stop running. Under no circumstances are you to look back. Understand?"

The group of young apprentices nodded solemnly and clustered behind her as she came over to the doorway and peered out into the shadows.

"Now!" Barimus barked and Cyanine sprinted into the hallway, taking a hard right with a string of apprentices hot on her heels.

"Run, Markl!" The red wizard shouted as he hauled his nephew by the front of his shirt through the door and shoved him forward. Together they brought up the rear as they raced after the captain of the wizard's guard.

Out of the corner of his eye, Markl could see the hallway behind them erupt into sickly yellow-green flames as a column of living fire burst from the darkness in the corridor. It raged after the fleeing group, splitting to reveal multiple needled maws and snarling with dissonant howls like a great ravenous beast.

Markl ran like he had never run before, dashingly blindly through what seemed an eternity of twisting corridors and dark chambers. The group burst from a large room into a huge spiraling staircase, the grey dawn filtered in through the triangular paned windows that followed the steps into the vast palace above.

"Up!" Their leader commanded as she took the steps two at a time.

Markl's lungs burned and his legs ached as they pounded up the flights of twisting stairs. Several times someone fell and numerous hands reached out to pull the apprentice to their feet. It was when Markl himself slipped and Nalir hauled him up the next two stairs that the Wallmaker's son realized his uncle was no longer behind him. Ahead of them by about ten steps Markl could see the platinum head of the red uniformed witch. She came to an abrupt halt as she cast her eyes down the center of the staircase, no doubt noticing that Barimus was missing.

A huge explosion of red fire plumped from the doorway on one of the landings below and the whole staircase shuddered and heaved under the shockwave. Barimus erupted out of the black smoke the rose up the center of the stairwell, the red wizard was on fire with a golden nimbus as he lobbed handfuls of crimson flame into the inferno below. The fire beneath them shifted in color as lances of yellow flame shot from below and detonated around them. More screams filled the air as debris and shrapnel showered the apprentices. Hedera and Trissa threw out their hands and twin shields of teal and magenta light stove off the cutting shards of glass.

"My lord!" Cyanine screamed as another explosion from below caused half of the curving stairwell overhead to collapse and come crashing down directly over the Royal Wizard of Ingary. The blond witch cast out her hands and gripped at something intangible, hauling it towards her as invisible hands yanked Barimus from the path of the falling stairs. The Wallmaker's brother half collided with his messenger as he crashed over the railing. His clothes were singed and his face was smudged with soot, but he was unscathed.

"The stairs!" Markl coughed as smoke burned his lungs and eyes as he pointed towards the crumbled section above.

"Fly!" Barimus shouted weakly as he staggered to his feet, helping up several of the apprentices.

"To me!" Cyanine called as she scooped up the nearest child and leapt into the air, shooting up to the next landing. Ryden wrapped his long arms around two of his schoolmates who could not fly and chased after her. Trissa and Hedera each took two of the younger apprentices who were flightless, following after the rest of the group through the smoke and heat. Barimus jumped up onto the banister and covered their flight by lobbing handfuls of red fire in the darkness below.

"Move it, you two!" Barimus bellowed at them in between bursts of flame.

"Come on!" Markl cried as he pulled at Nalir's sleeve. But the boy's face was white with terror.

"I can't fly!" The red haired boy whisper's was barely perceivable over the roaring flames below, his eyes fixed in horror on the burning corridor below.

"I can!" Markl replied softly, not that Nalir heard him.

Howl's apprentice thrust his arm under the boy's shoulder as he grasped Suliman's stick with his other hand. Together they flew into the air. Blinded by the choking smoke, they emerged on the other side on the next level up and crashed into the ceiling before landing in a tangle of limbs on the landing. The other students sprawled on the ground near by, trying to stay beneath the thick smoke that was threatening to suffocate them. Through the haze Markl caught sight of Cyanine leaning out over the banister into the thick smoke that coiled up the center of the corridor in smothering plumes.

Casting her hands out to either side, the platinum haired witch made a powerful gesture and the windows on the other side of the stairs shattered outwards. A great wind crashed past the apprentices in the wake of her magic as she cast the smoke outside. The clean air was sweet as they coughed and sputtered, trying to fill their lungs once again. But Cyanine was distracted by more than the flames below.

"Barimus!" She screamed over the banister, her face stricken. After receiving no reply the soldier witch dove over the edge into the inferno below. A moment later a red garbed pair burst from the smoke that filtered out of the windows and tumbled into a heap by the apprentices.

"Uncle!" Markl cried as he clambered over to the singed wizard, who was coated in soot.

"Inside! It's the shield room," he croaked hoarsely and motioned weakly toward the great doors that loomed up on the landing ahead of them. The apprentices streamed forward and pulled the doors open a crack, letting bright light come spilling through.

Wordlessly, Cyanine hauled the Royal Wizard to his feet as he faltered. Markl fit himself under his uncle's shoulder and the messenger turned the blond man over to his nephew. Casting a nervous glance over the balcony, she pointed toward the door.

"Get him inside!" the messanger barked, "Something doesn't smell right…"

The young wizard jumped in surprise as a familiar whistling sliced through the roar of the fires below. The sound of a blade whipped from its sheath cut through the air as invisible dart embedded in the ground at their feet, missing them by mere inches. For a moment unseen strings glimmered in the air before being pulled taut and disappearing.

"Puppet daemons!" Barimus shouted as he straightened and shoved Markl toward the shield room.

Casting their eyes about the ceiling, the witch and wizard gazed at the ominous shadows that collected there in the bright yellow light of the fires below. The royal wizard's messenger snapped to attention as another whizzing noise pierced the din. She shoved Barimus forward and shrieked, going rigid as something embedded itself in the marble at her feet. A gaping hole ripped through the red of her uniform, masking the blood that slowly dripped forward to reveal the invisible thread that pierced her chest. Her knees gave out, although she remained suspended by another power.

Her eyes went pale as she reached for the red wizard. For a moment the dawn broke through the smashed windows behind her and the platinum haired witch became a dark outline as she crumpled like a limp doll.

"Cyanine!" Barimus screamed.

But her lifeless body was hauled by the hands of daemons into the air and over the banister into the fire below. Moment's later the rising sun was eclipsed a great column of yellow fire that reared up the center of the stairwell. It screeched and reached with hundreds of snake like arms that snarled like the heads of a great hydra. Catching sight of the two humans, the daemon surged forward like a wildfire, meaning to incinerate them.

The red wizard staggered to his feet and plunged his hands before him, a great wall of red radiance erupted from the ground and the daemon crashed against it. Markl didn't have enough time to add his magic to the barrier before his uncle was driven back by the wrathful being's fire. The young apprentice back peddled wildly and slammed against the open door of the shield room. The portal clicked shut behind as Barimus skidded to a halt in front of him.

"Inside!" Barimus bellowed as he strained with all his might against the enormous daemon before them.

"Not without you!" Markl shouted back as he thrust Suliman's stick forward; but nothing happened. Thunderstruck, the young wizard stared down at the lifeless chunk of wood in his hands and despaired.

The wrath daemon withdrew from the Royal Wizard's barrier and his uncle staggered forward as his magic failed him. They stared in horror as the twisting black and yellow flame seemed to draw into itself, sucking up even the black smoke that had once billowed through the windows into the morning outside.

Barimus threw himself backwards against his nephew just as the daemon detonated, rushing forward in a torrent of oblivion.


	6. Chapter 6: Trial by Fire

**Twilight Doom: Part III of the Wallmaker Saga**

**Chapter 6: Trial by Fire**

After staring for a moment at the scorched stairs, the Wallmaker turned and pounded up into the living room.

The raven-haired man paced wildly as he did his best to calm his son, who was currently soaking the front of his shirt. The magic had the same smell, just like the daemons he had encountered in Martha's shop. It was that woman, the cold healer that Markl had tried to warn him about. Howl cursed himself for not listening, for not paying more attention, and most of all for running away. But he could not have opened the door to banish the creatures back into the otherworld. It would have been a grave risk to the lives of his family. The wizard had no idea how many daemons were outside his door; besides, to let them through would have breeched the magic barrier that surrounded Kingsbury. He cast his eyes at the burned entry way and shuddered as he realized how close the evil things had come to his son.

If they had gotten through who knows what could have happened.

"Oh, dear, dear, dear," Granny Witch muttered anxiously as she stared down the charred front steps, clutching Heen in her arms protectively. The little dog was barking silently in his wheezing little voice. Theresa helped Martha to her feet from where she half sprawled and clung to her mistress as they crept forward and stood on the landing next to the former witch of the wastes. Calcifer flitted over from the hearth and hovered above their heads, snapping and crackling a furious vermillion as he looked at the damage that had been done to their castle. The trailing tongues of his fire blackened and twisted darker as the daemons eyes went blank.

"I smell her, Howl," Calcifer's voice was deep and foreign, a menacing echo making him sound much bigger that he appeared.

"Where are we, Cal?" The wizard asked suddenly as he stopped next to the empty hearth.

All eyes turned to the lanky man. Howl was gently patting Akarshan's back, the little boy had ceased crying but still had his face buried in his father's chest. The wizard's visage was dark and distant, as though he were straining to hear something far away, a pinched look gathering at the corners of his luminous eyes. The green jewels that hid in his raven hair sparkled in the early morning light that pooled around him from the garden windows; but whether from the sun or by magic remained unclear.

"Above the wastes near Market Chipping," the fire daemon replied without taking his eyes from the door, "I wanted to keep us close to the Hatters."

"Take the castle to Kingsbury as fast as you can," Howl replied. The daemon fluttered in surprise as he shot his gaze to the wizard, but nodded and flew back to the hearth where he glowed, a determined crimson hue.

"Martha, will you please take Shan?" The dark haired woman jumped as the Wallmaker's voice drew her attention away from the stairwell.

The terror and worry on her face were plain. The wife of the Royal Wizard understood very keenly the implications of what had just happened. Kingsbury was overrun by daemons. So much so that the creatures were trying to force their way through any portal they could find, trying to escape the magic barrier that surrounded the capital. The herbalist clutched the ruby pendent that hung around her neck so hard her knuckles were white, but the stone was no help. Martha was a healer and greatly skilled in the use of magical herbs and potions. However, her art did not make use of the magic in the otherworld; hedge witches have the ability to channel the energy inherent in enchanted components, but they do not command magic. The silent woman was not a sorceress and she had no way of contacting her husband through magical means. As she came forward, she turned the full attention of her wide green eyes to Howl, begging the wizard wordlessly to tell her everything was alright.

But Howl could give no such assurances.

Martha accepted his silence stonily as a resolved expression buried the fear that had once pinched her features. The herbalist was a strong woman, and she would not let her fear prevent her from helping her brother-in-law do what they must. She reached out and tried to take Akarshan, who stalwartly refused to go to her.

"No!" Shan cried petulantly, clinging to his father's shirt as Martha tried to extract him from the wizard's arms. The herbalist had a great deal of difficult separating the two, but when she finally succeeded the little boy reached for the raven haired man in distress.

"Lemmie go, auntie! I want to stay with Papa!" He squirmed and fought the iron embrace of his mother's dark haired sister.

Howl reached out and placed a single finger on his son's lips, surprising little boy into silence. His father smiled brightly at him from under his thick bangs, his smooth face serene and his gleaming sapphire eyes calm.

"I'm just going to check something, Shan," Howl spoke in his carefree way as though he were just stepping out to pick up a pint of milk, "I'll be back very soon, I promise."

But Shan was not convinced and he grabbed hold of his father's finger, going red in the face as tears gathering in his eyes, "That's what Markl said about, mama, but she never came back! Now Markl's gone and you're going too! Everyone's leaving me!"

For once, his mask remained in place; seeing the daemons had galvanized the Wallmaker.

Howl placed his hands on his hips and bent from the waist to rest his forehead against the top of his son's head. The little boy gave a start and tilted his head to peer up into his father's face. The wizard smiled broadly, his composure drawing the six-year-old out of his worries.

"Akarshan, I made you a promise, didn't I? Don't you believe me?"" Howl scolded playfully in a light hearted voice, "Well, if it makes you feel better then I'll leave this with you as proof that I have to come back."

With that the Wallmaker straightened and reached into his pocket. He drew out the sapphire necklace that had been his mother's. Shan recognized it immediately as the pedant that Sophie always wore and he blinked in surprise as Howl slipped it over his head.

"But, this is mommy's necklace!" He gasped as he picked up the jewel and stared at it in awe.

"Yes. It was my mother's necklace too. It's much too important to leave behind. So will you keep it safe for me until I come back for it?"

His youngest son fiddled with the stone with a solemn expression on his face and then nodded.

"Good!" Howl tousled his youngest son's hair and swept past Martha, Theresa, and Granny Witch as he skipped lightly down the charred from steps and paused before the front door.

He opened the door and the chilly wind from the sky outside came rushing in. Holding the railing outside, Howl peered down at the rolling fields and green plains that speed away beneath them as the castle flew east towards the capital. They were very close, near enough that the lanky man could make the rest of the trip on feathered wings in a short matter of time.

"Not too much further, Howl," Calcifer called from the grate almost as though he could hear the wizard's thoughts.

The Wallmaker came back inside and shut the door, turning the knob to red. The doorway immediately began bucking and groaning as the daemons beyond still pounded on the portal. Someone shrieked and the wizard cast his eyes over his shoulder at the three women who gathered at the top of the stairs. The red haired apprentice peered at him from between Granny Witch and Martha. Indeed, Shan was white face as well, but clutched at the blue stone around his neck. Being able to believe in a tangible thing seemed to give Akarshan strength, and Howl was glad to see his son wearing the necklace.

"I wouldn't go out that door if I were you, dearie," Granny Witch regarded him with watery eyes as she frowned at the master of the castle.

"I do believe you are right, Granny," Howl replied evenly and turned the dial back to green. As he opened the door that lead to only wind and clouds, navy-blue feathers sprouted from his limbs as the Wallmaker threw himself into the sky outside.

The women on the stairs stared at the door for a minute after it closed. Granny witch tottered off with Heen in her arms and Martha spun on her heel to advance on the fireplace with swift intent. Theresa gave a start and watched at her mistress loom over the little fire daemon, who flickered irritably as the herbalist stared at him.

"In case you haven't noticed, lady, I'm really busy right now," Cal grumbled.

"Where do you keep your agrimony?" Was Martha's brisk reply.

xXx

Howl fell like a stone.

As he dropped off of the short porch that lined the front door to the castle, the patch-worked world of green and yellow fields rushing up to meet him. But as the raven-haired man plummeted towards the ground his magic burst forth from within him as feathers the color of the navy night sky transformed the wizard into a great bird. Snapping out his wings, the sharp winds plucked him back into the sky as he soared upwards into the early morning light. Howl accelerated like a comet through the clouds, the otherwind driving him forward in his haste. The land beneath the Wallmaker blurred as sapphire blue rivers snaked by while vast columns of white clouds split before his swiftness. As the wizard plunged through the cool dark vapor of a large bank of mists, he burst into the great bowl of the Kingbury valley.

The capital of Ingary spread like a multi-colored tapestry of tall houses and gleaming gold and copper spires in the morning light. In his othersight, Howl could see the great dome of the magic shield Suliman had placed over Kingsbury back during the war with Marda. The metropolis looked like a giant snow globe beneath the shimmering barrier that curved like glowing glass to meet with the thick walls the encircled the vast sprawl of structures. Every inch of space within the walls of the city was filled with rows upon rows of gabled roofs that lined the orderly avenues and boulevards. But the streets were empty and the small patches of green where people should have gathered like flocks of birds were vacant.

As Howl banked to the side and circled closer to the capital, tiny specs of red resolved under his keep eyes, darting through the streets. They chased and were pursued by wells of inky black that emerged from the long morning shadows like nightmares that had not faded with the dawn. The daemons were bold to fight in the daylight, it was not their realm. The audacity of the wicked creatures asserted the weakening of the magic that guarded the capital. Fear for his brother gripped the blue eyed sorcerer as he turned seeking thought towards the Royal Wizard. He received no reply, but had not expected any. Barimus was not known for his mind magic; hence he constantly used the young captain of the Wizard's Guard as his messenger witch.

The green jewels at his ears pulsed as a bolt of seeking magic shot from somewhere below, starting the Wallmaker from his thoughts. Howl back winged furiously as he hovered in the empty air, seeking its source with swift accuracy. Along the edge of the capital's outer wall, just beyond where the foremost shell curved into the ground, there was a small encampment of stripped pavilions. A group of airships gleamed in the morning light, resting like great metal birds in the green fields beyond the tents. He could see the snapping pennants that displayed the yellow and green heraldry of the Mardan and Tyrnian countries.

A crowd of multi-colored specks gathered in the middle of the road, and the wizard felt their attention focus on him like a tangible weight. The people glimmered and sparkled with magic under Howl's othersight. These witches and wizards were probably reinforcements sent by the two countries to aid the Ingarians. Howl sent an answering probe to the people below, lest they think him an enemy and begin pelting him with magic. But just as the gleaming barrier kept the daemons in it also kept the sorcerers and sorceresses out.

The crowd wavered and milled about, the faint echoes of their surprise reaching his inner ear as the flying castle erupted from the large cloud bank over the green fields just beyond their encampment. Howl's home slowed in the air as it came to a halt on a hill just above the road that led west towards the sea. Shortly after it had landed, a green dot emerged from the front of the castle followed by another, which hovered uncertainly back from the crowd the hurried up the hill to meet them. The wizard began circling downward toward his family when a tightness suddenly constricted the Wallmaker's chest.

All was not well.

Howl rotated his wings into the wind and snapped upwards once more as his cerulean eyes fell upon the huge palace at the center of the capital. A twin half globe of golden light rested over the citadel, gleaming like the burnished yellow of the gilded domes that rose from the grand fortress. Suddenly the inner barrier trembled and winked out of existence. The violent premonition heralding the use of great magic and moments later an enormous plume of yellow black fire exploded from one of the domes in the citadel. An immense cloud of black smoke mushroomed into the sky as half of the palace wall adjacent to the building tore away and disintegrated into rubble. The outer barrier wobbled for a moment, but held firm.

Regardless, the Wallmaker felt the catastrophic failure of the inner barrier's magic like a physical blow. The backlash of the magic shattered within his mind like thousands of white hot needles. The shockwave stunned him.

The wizard Howl teetered in the air for a moment then fell from the sky.

xXx

Markl coughed and spasmed in pain as his senses returned to him.

He tried to sit up, but a heavy weight pinned him down. Markl recognized his Uncle sandy blond hair as he struggled to wiggle out from the motionless man. But he was stuck, and could not move. One of the young wizard's arms was pinned under the Royal Wizard's body, although his other was free.

"Cyanine?" Markl called, hoping the platinum haired witch was near by, and then remembered with a soul-rending shock that she was gone. The grief that seized him was immense, and he cried out in spite of himself. Half sobbing he struggled again to free himself, but to no avail.

"Uncle?" He gasped huskily and shook the wizard with his free hand, but received no reply.

Blinking in disorientation, he realized there was light everywhere here, but it was bright and cold, not warm like the sun. It split through haze of dust and crumbling rubble and casting an upside down look towards the center of the room Markl gaped in awe.

The shield room was intact; it had survived the blast of the fiend's wrathful fire. Most of the palace had crumbled away under the detonation, and the walls outside of the thin membrane of glowing golden light that arched backwards like in a shining dome had fallen back to reveal the sky overhead. Inside the shield was the Wizard's Council. Old, young, beautiful and ugly; the sorcerers and sorceress sat together in a ring at the center of the room; each of the councilors was surrounded by a pale nimbus of colored light that was their magic. But they were growing weak, as was evident by their faces, which were twisted by intense expressions of concentration.

Their magic filtered from them in shimmering cords, which wove together like a rainbow in the middle of the ring they formed. The light twisted around a spire of glass that emerged from the marble floor of the room. Once it reached the apex of the glass, the magic shot in a beam, visible only in the othersight, into the sky above. This was the source of the magic barrier that contained the daemons and prevented them from rampaging into the mortal world. Markl marveled at the fragile thing and the strength that it must contain to hold up a protective dome over the entire capital of Ingary.

It was then that the young wizard notices the other apprentices and a surge of relief spread through him to know that they were alright. The group was spread out along the edge of the gleaming barrier, pushing on it as though they were trying to force their way through. It was then that Markl realized that this inner barrier was one way only and that they were trapped. Nalir, the thin boy in black velvet that Markl had clashed horns with while seeking daemons, pounded his fists against the barrier but no sound emanated from within. Catching sight of Markl he waved his hands wildly as silent words tumbled from his mouth.

"I can't hear you!" Markl called back.

The red haired apprentice cupped his hand around his ear and then shook his head. Howl's eldest son made a series of meaningless gestures and then gave up. The two boys stared at one another as other apprentices gathered by Nalir, who pointed at Markl. Suddenly, a tall barrel-chested grown-up came charging up to the barrier and the apprentices scrambled out of his way. The man wore a green uniform trimmed with red and had a huge red moustache to match his bushy rust colored hair. On the breast of his shirt was the royal emblem of the Kingdom of Ingary, and Markl immediately recognized King Ferdinand. The man rounded his attention on the two young wizards who pointed out into the rubble. The ruler of Ingary peered out, shading his eyes against the fires with his large hands. He must have caught sight of Barimus because he gave an enormous start and pointed wildly while shouting at the other apprentices.

Trissa and Hedera looked around the King to see what he was yelling about and clamped their hands over their mouths as they caught sight ofMarkl and the red wizard. Ryden came forward at the Emperor's behest with a few of the other apprentices; the group began pushing on the barrier with all their might. Even the King lent his strength to their efforts. But nothing happened. Clearly frustrated, Nalir conjured a lance of power and cast it at the barrier, which absorbed it without phasing.

The tree-like young wizard cuffed the red haired boy on the back of the head and the two began a heated argument. The king Ferdinand put his hands on his hips and laughed silently, his whole body shaking as he regarded the two boys. It might have been funny, seeing them turn blue in the face screaming at each other while the ruler of Ingary looked on and hooted with mirth. But Markl was too worried for his uncle to find humor in their antics. The red wizard hadn't moved at all; he was breathing, that much the young man could tell.

Suddenly Trissa and Hedera flinched and went white with terror, turning they fled behind the tall King. Ryden had just clenched his fist and reared it back to punch Nalir when Ferdinand grabbed the tall boy's arm and pointed, catching sight of something beyond Markl thathe could not see. The black garbed brat seized the opportunity to strike the reedy apprentice in his gut. Ryden doubled over as the Emperor seized his aggressor by the ear and directed his attention away from the fight. Nalir went pale in the face and he began pointing madly, obviously not at all interested in the fact that the ruler of Ingary had him by the ear. Ferdinand let go and they all looked up. Their faces twisted in horror as an enormous wrath daemon coalesced like an arm of fire out of the smoke the billowed up from the stairwell beyond.

Howl's eldest son stared at it in terror as the beast planted a burning taloned foot a stone's throw away from where he and Barimus were trapped. The waves of heat from the flames that crackled up from the daemon's limb stirred the young wizard's hair. _How did it get so big_, was the first thought that flitted through Markl's mind. It had probably glutted itself on destruction and murder while rampaging through the palace. He held absolutely still as the triangular head of the snake-like thing swiveled high overhead. It sniffed loudly and thrummed like a drum, resonating so deeply the sound manifested as a great vibration, rattling rubble loose and causing another wall to collapse. It regarded the golden dome that barred its way from the trembling humans and snapped its jaws in anticipation of the meal beyond.

Markl did not freeze as he had when confronted with a daemon before, but he remained very still. Carefully casting his eyes about, the young wizard's attention seized on the gold shod butt of a stick that poked out of the rubble just out of his reach. Squirming and straining, he could brush the tip of Suliman's staff with his fingers, but couldn't quite reach it. The wrath daemon darted its head towards the Councilors and crashed against the barrier, which gave an earsplitting crack like thunder and showered the area with golden sparks. The beast let out a piercing shriek of pain and frustration as it reared back and gathered itself up. At in the moment of silence Barimus let out a soft moan and stirred again Markl's shoulder.

Markl felt faint with terror as the beast swiveled its head and regarded the two wizard intently, seeing them for the first time. It lowered its flaming body, cocking its head to the side like a lizard as it regarded them with a great black eye and began drooling incandescent yellow fire.

"Barimus!" Markl screamed in desperation and managed to summon an arrow of purple light, which he let fly at the lidless eye of the wrath daemon.

The lance flew true and blinded the fiend. As it shrieked and reared back from the unexpected attack, Barimus groaned again and attempted to push himself up. That was all the leverage that Markl needed. The young boy shot his arm out to the side and yanked Suliman's stick out of the rubble. The moment his hand touched the stick his desperation brought it to life where once before it remained dead. And a shield of purple light repelled the daemon as it returned with its gaping maw split to devour its assailant. With another crack of thunder the beast shrieked and recoiled, shaking its smarting head in confusion.

"Uncle, get up," Markl demanded, terror making him short with the injured man as he pushed at the disoriented red wizard's shoulder. Barimus' face twisted in agony as he rose and half collapsed to the side far enough for Markl to wriggle out from under him.

"I can't move my legs," the Royal Wizard gasped as his face went white with pain.

The man's blond hair was plastered to the sweat that covered his sooty face. There was red on him as well from a scalp wound, which made his face look paler. Barimus turned paler still as he caught sight of the daemon and sprawled back by his nephew, who crouched fearfully as he regarded the beast.

The wrathful creature screeched and gnashed it jaws, regaining its composure. It coiled the yellow-black flames of its body, twisting in rage as it drew into itself for another explosion of magic. Markl used Suliman's stick to gain his feet up at the creature that loomed like flaming death over them. He knew he could shield both he and his uncle from another denotation of the daemon's fury. But the young wizard knew for a fact that the inner shield would crack under the impending onslaught. If the Council was lost the outer barrier would fail and Cyanine would have died for nothing. Standing, Markl strode forward toward the lizard of living fire. But the Wallmaker's apprentice was not afraid. He was thinking of his mother. Knowing she was alive somewhere out there gave him hope, and from that came strength.

"Markl!" Barimus shouted reaching after his nephew, but theyoung manignored his uncle.

Placing himself directly in the daemon's path, the young wizard slammed Suliman's stick onto the stones beneath his feet. An immense circle of liquid mauve light erupted from beneath the boy and snapped out to encompass all but the twisting column of flame. The Wallmaker's son watched as a dark flower of black and purple shadows bloomed beside the daemon. Out of the twisting congregation of tortured black shades rose the cold woman. Her lidless eyes were as black as the beast's she commanded and her sickly pale face split into a vicious toothy grin. The daemon queen whipped upright, bathed in a crackling halo of darkness and she shouted something as pointed at taloned finger straight at him.

The fire wrath trumpeted exultantly before it exploded into an inferno of destruction.

xXx

Dierdrie almost choked under the pressure that washed through the otherworld. She grabbed her head as the force tore like a barbed arrow through her mind. The little girl clung to herself in pain, waiting for the shockwave to pass.

Sophie trembled and weakly attempted to lift herself in the aftermath. She failed. Regardless, she listened with great intensity for anything that might explain the force that rocked through the world between worlds.

_What was that? _Drie asked her mother, who shook her head uncertainly. The aged silver sorceress snapped her attention back to her daughter as her features twisted in jubilation.

_I can hear you! _Sophie cried joyfully and reached unconsciously for the young girl, her happiness fading as she remembered their predicament. She slumped back into the verdant green and hid her face in her wrinkled hands as her shoulder began to shake. But Drie clambered over and stretched out in the grass as close to Sophie as was physically possible without touching her.

_Please mother, don't cry. We're together now and it will be alright._ Drie spoke in desperate earnest.

Sophie dashed her hand at the tears the leaked down her wrinkled cheeks and wearily turned her face to look at the daughter she had never known.

_Dear one, I don't even know your name, _she whispered despondently.

_Dierdrie, mother. My name is Dierdrie._ The silver haired girl replied, her face alight with love as she placed her hand next to her mothers, where it rested in the grass.

_Dierdrie… _Sophie mumbled in exhaustion, a grayish color creeping into her face. Her form seemed to go transparent for a moment. The old woman closed her eyes as her voice grew soft and pale, trembling like a weak ray of starlight in her daughter's mind. _You have your father's eyes, little heart; blue, just like the sky._

_Mother, don't go to sleep! Stay awake! _Drie shouted silently, her voice became the dawn sun, rising like column of golden flames within the silver sorceress' mind. Sophie roused and looked with her daughter with warm brown eyes as she smiled. In that moment the age seemed to flee from her, and the little girl stared at the Wallmaker's wife as she smiled at her with the infinite love only a mother could give.

_Take care of your father for me, Dierdrie. You'll have to tell him it wasn't his fault. He won't believe you. _Sophie's voice was a bare whisper as she turned her head into the green grass._ But you'll have to convince him for me._

Drie stared wordlessly at her mother, watching her slip away. The Wallmaker's daughter shot to her feet and stumbled over the parasitic line that was killing the silver sorceress. Without thinking of the consequences, she seized a hold of it and pulled with all her might.

The ravenous force that drove the Dull Wall turned its full attention onto the young girl. The daemon within Dierdrie shrieked and clawed away from the mindless hunger that threatened to drag them both into oblivion. The years fell away from Sophie's daughter; the pain was excruciating as she aged at an exponential rate. Her limbs grew thin as they lengthened and her hair grew long and straight like a fall of silver water.

_Help me! _The rapidly changing woman demanded of the daemon within her soul.

Out of desperation of its own life, the empty woman erupted like a black shadow from the stricken girl's back coalescing into a perfect mirror copy of the silver haired girl. The door closed its hands around the cord and added its strength to the fight, lest they both be consumed by the Wall. But Dierdrie thoughts were only of saving her mother, and her fear gave her power. As time fled from the Wallmaker's daughter, the girl's magic matured exponentially. But she was young and fragile. The brittle barrier of physicality that separated her from the vast reservoir of magic in the rolling hills of the otherworld buckled and tore. Drie screamed soundlessly as an immeasurable geyser of power erupted from the indigo veil and flooded through her.

As the cord snapped free, the enormous backlash of the life force the barrier had stolen from the silver witch rocked back out of the Dull Wall. But instead of returning to Sophie, it surged into the first thing it came into contact with. The wave of magic coursed through Dierdrie and the empty woman, crashing through them in the way a wave would surge through an open portal. It dragged the Wallmaker's daughter and her shade through the breech with it and into another plane of existence.

In that moment, Dierdrie and her daemon became the green hills.

* * *

How am I doing, guys :whines as her insecure inner author emerges petulantly: Are you still interested? It have plans to continue to a fourth part. But, I could really use some feedback because once again I'm afraid I'm beating this to death. 

Thank you so much for reading! .


	7. Chapter 7: The Other Daughter

**Twilight Doom: Part III of the Wallmaker Saga**

**Chapter 7: The Other Daughter**

The whistling wind and a terrible twisting sense of weightlessness wrenched Howl back to his senses.

As the wizard's eyes snapped open, the ground reared up before him dangerously close. The Wallmaker whipped out his wings, which were almost yanked from their sockets as he tried desperately to slow his descent. Gritting his teeth, the emerald jewels at his ears and around his neck pulsed like green fire and he jerked to a stop feet above the ground. Gingerly lowering himself the rest of the way, the pale man's wobbly knees gave out. He sank to the ground on the steep slope, landing on his rump gracelessly as his feathers dissolved.

"Howl!" Calcifer shouted in alarm as the little fire daemon sped up the hillside in front of the crowd of wizards and witches that clambered up after him. But the raven haired man pushed himself to his feet and half stumbled down the knoll, not at all interested in the anxious group coming to meet him.

"Are you alright?" A darkly tanned bald wizard, wearing very little in the way of clothing asked with concern.

But the lanky man pushed past him and dove through the mottled colored crowd, which parted before him. The witches and wizards muttered dubiously as they regarded the little flame that chased after the tall sorcerer. He let his momentum carry him down the hill, casting a sideways glance at his castle. Howl's sharp eyes picked out Granny Witch and Akarshan on the veranda high on the top of the hodgepodge of parts that made up their home. The little boy waved wildly at his father, who raised his hand in reply. The blue-eyed wizard strode quickly through the encampment and down the middle of the road to the bridge that spanned a wide river that split around Kingsbury. As he neared the entrance to the capital, the Wallmaker fixed his eyes on Martha and her apprentice.

The two of them stood in front of a pair of soldiers, garbed in the Ingarian red and blue. One man was as tall as he was wide, rippling with muscles. The other was thin and short, with a bookish look in spite of the rifle on his back. Both shrank from the herbalist's flinty stare; the larger half hide behind his reedy counterpart, who was holding his hand out pleadingly. As always, Martha and her apprentice were dressed sensibly in their voluminous twill pants and natural cotton chemises. However, they were bedecked from head to toe in all manner of leafy substances. Herbs poked from every pocket on their bodies and Barimus' wife wore a bandolier of small glass flasks full of strangely colored tinctures. Theresa's hair was full of twigs and she brandished her garden hoe like a great sword.

"There's no way I can let you pass, ma'am. The city has been evacuated! Don't you know that there are daemons in there?" The thin solider stuttered in exasperation about his large handle bar moustache.

King Ferdinand had started quite a trend.

Martha towered like a great behemoth and planted her hands on her hips. The solider actually flinched and drew back a step. Sophie's sister cast her smoldering gaze over her shoulder and Howl saw that her face was covered in grey ash, making her look all the more like living stone. The bitter smell of agrimony assaulted the Wallmaker's nose as he drew near. But he did not stop. Deftly side stepping the solider, he continued on toward the archway beyond the bridge. Martha and Theresa followed after him leaving the crestfallen guards in their wake.

"Sir! You can't go in there!"!" The larger solider called after him then gasped and shrank in trepidation as Calcifer flew by and went to hover over the wizard's head.

The fire daemon sniffed and went cross-eyed with revulsion as he scooted away from the herbalist, regarding her with open disgust.

"Blasted herb!" He spat nastily.

Agrimony is known for it ability to cure poising and banish evil. But when burned it exudes a powerful magic that reverses spells and hexes negative energies. Martha and her apprentice were covered in the stuff from head to toe.

But Howl didn't hear him; the Wallmaker was staring at the empty archway before him. Any other person would have tried to walk forward, but Howl could see the invisible barrier as plainly as the ground beneath his feet. Reaching out, the long-limbed man touched the magic shield and received a biting shock. The raven-hared wizard snatched back his hand and shook it daintily.

"We're too full of magic, it won't let us through," Calcifer crackled in agitation, darting back and forth impatiently. "Too bad we can't use any of the portals."

Suddenly, Martha stepped in front of her brother-in-law and reached out, passing her hand through the barrier as though it were nothing but air. The Wallmaker gave a violent start and opened his mouth to protest vehemently. But his words evaporated under the full fury of the burning stare that the herbalist fixed upon him. It was then that he noticed the ash in her hair made it grey, much his wife's. The herbalist looked so much like Sophie in that moment that Howl couldn't have spoken even if he wanted to. The wizard averted his eyes and let his bangs fall into his face to mask his pain. Theresa spoke for her mistress, and he could hear the twin determination of their wills in her voice.

"We're the only ones that can go through."

In the silence that followed that truth, Calcifer popped cantankerously. He was glaring at the group of witches and wizards who hung back uncertainly, watching from afar.

"Fat lot of good they're doing just standing around," Cal snapped.

Howl wasn't paying much attention to anyone at that moment; his thoughts were centered on the magic dome over the city. The barrier was weakening; even now it was thinning in the way ice slowly melts under the blazing sun. Squinting up into the bright sky, the Wallmaker delved into his hazy memories of the royal Ingarian Palace. Suliman had shown him the shield room a long time ago when he was still an apprentice. The crystal spire in the center of the domed room was a relic of the Mage Wars, but it still managed to serve its purpose. He had an anxious suspicion that it was at the epicenter of the explosions; the magic backlash all but confirmed that. This was where the foul creatures from beyond the Wall were most likely concentrating their attacks.

Unfortunately, this was the very place that he must send his brother's wife.

"Do you know where the shield room is in the Palace?" Howl asked quickly, ignoring Theresa blank stare of abject confusion as Martha nodded firmly. Howl smoothed his hair unnecessarily and peered at the great golden dome with a grim expression.

"This is what we're going to do," the raven-haired man explained quickly.

The sorcerer reached out and sketched a swirling mark in the air before the ruby around Martha's neck. Drawing back his hand, the fire followed the graceful movement of his finger to touch the emerald that rested against his white shirt. A twin mark swam into being. Together the symbols burned like blue fire, twisting with a life of their own. As quickly as they had come, the marks faded into northing. The display of magic was lost on Martha and Theresa, who had no othersight. But the ruby pendant around the herbalist's neck pulsed brightly for a moment. The ashen faced woman looked down at her necklace with a frown and regarded the wizard inquisitively.

"A gateway spell," Howl replied shortly, "It will create a temporary door, bypassing portal magic by going through the otherworld. But the gate will only work once; don't use it until you're inside the barrier in the shield room. I'll bring through the reinforcements."

Martha nodded firmly once more. Without hesitancy she turned and strode through the barrier, beckoning for her apprentice to follow her as she cast her eyes about edgily.

"What about this? It's magic isn't it?" Theresa frowned in worry as she held up her garden hoe.

"It never hurts to try," The Wallmaker replied and drew back with a flourish as he indicated the golden curtain that enveloped the city. Now was not the time to explain the difference between active and passive magic. In the distance another explosion boomed and Howl gave a violent start, going pale with worry for Markl and Barimus.

Theresa most likely echoed his thoughts, because she rushed through the barrier after her mistress, gardening tool and all. The herbalist's apprentice tucked the hoe beneath her as she broke even with the hedge witch. Martha swung her leg over the stick and settled behind the red haired little girl. Together they kicked off the ground and climbed into the air, dwindling out of sight. As the Wallmaker watched them go he felt his heart grow cold with fear and sink like a stone into the pit of his stomach.

This was their only chance.

"The daemons will be able to smell them," Cal mumbled soberly as he tinged a fretful teal, "Even with all that agrimony."

Howl heard his friend, but did not reply. Turning on his heel the raven-haired man summoned the handsome mask onto his face as he strode past the nervous guards, who leapt out of the way. The sorcerer smiled dazzlingly and cast open his arms in welcome as he approached the group that stood at the foot of the bridge.

"Brethren, gather round!"

The witches and wizard drew back from him as he approached with Calcifer in tow. Behind his amiable facade the raven-haired sorcerer seethed silently over their duplicity.

"You are accompanied by a foul daemon, son of the Wallmakers," spoke the bald bare-chested wizard that met him on the hill earlier.

"Who are you calling foul, baldy!" Calcifer snapped nastily.

"It would please me greatly if you would not insult my friend, brother wizard," Howl replied dangerously, smiling serenely as his earrings glinted like jade fire in the sunlight.

Almost on cue another explosion rocked the city beyond and the group tittered as they milled anxiously, casting their eyes into the distance. The witches and wizard may have been perturbed by their forced residence in Ingary, but they were not so unconcerned with Kingsbury's plight to ignore the threat the daemons posed to the mortal world. Unchecked a single daemon could destroy an entire city; several could bring about a catastrophe that reached beyond borders.

In spite of the terror for his family, which sent the Wallmaker's stomach through a lurching series of contractions, the lanky man exploited the foreign sorcerers' discomfort. Howl charmed them with a false display of tranquility as he smiled dazzlingly. The handsome man drew back with a grand gesture, gracefully indicating the city beyond with his long fingers. As Howl spoke his voice was warm and mellow as though he hadn't a care in the world. It was a powerful ruse, made all the more potent when used among those who harbored great fear.

"The barrier won't take much more of this, dear friends. If I were you I would be willing to take any help I could get, human or not." The raven-haired man turned his back on the group and planted his hands on his hips. The wizard's ploy barely held as his heart raged against the time they were wasting. But Howl resisted his urge to scream and throw things as he waited for someone to take the bait.

It had taken Barimus years to gain the full cooperation of the Ingarian Council. The Wallmaker knew all too well that these sorcerers and sorceresses were not from Ingary. They had gathered from Marda, Tyrn, and beyond at the behest of the Alliance forged between King Walden, Prince Justin, and King Ferdinand. Most of the men and women had probably been sent against their will, and as such they would not bow before the leadership of anyone. He had seen this kind of behavior from witches and wizard before in the aftermath of his uncle's unfortunate death. Any openly forceful move would only galvanize them against accepting his guidance. Howl's fears were confirmed as the group regarded him with a suspicion made tangible by the distance at which they lingered.

Suddenly, a tremulous voice spoke, burning like a beacon of reason through the gloom of their discontent.

"What must we do, Wallmaker?"

Howl fumed silently at the group's duplicity. The sorcerers and sorceresses snubbed his aid one moment and then asked for it the next. Furthermore, why was it that everyone always assumed that he knew what to do? But the nasty retort that prickled between his ears dissolved as the lanky man cast his eyes at the witch who had spoke. She was boney, plain, and wore too much black; but her hair fell long and straight like a crimson wind. It was very apparent from the pinched expression on her face that capitulating had severely damaged her ego. But the white hot aggravation constricting the Wallmaker's insides faded as he immediately recognized the frantic look inher eyes. It was one that only another parent would recognize.

"My son Nalir is in there," she spoke again in a mere whisper, but Howl heard it none the less.

Perhaps they were not so different after all?

Consent rippled through the crowd and they stared at the Wallmaker with a desperate kind of hope that terrified Howl. Their expressions made it clear they were depending on him now. The raven-haired man vacillated wildly between the overwhelming urge to blot and the heavy sense of responsibility that pinned him in place. He hated the feeling because it left him powerless to make his own decisions. But the thin wizard crushed his fears with an iron fist; Howl would gladly give up his freedom to save his family. Was he not the Wallmaker? Had he not thrown back the dark and rebuilt the Dull Wall. And what had he been doing for the past three days: hiding under a pile of pillows while the world crumbled around him.

Fate invariably collected its due with brutal efficiency. It was the hardest of lessons that led him to understand the consequences of avoiding strife. Merciless misery reached out to constrict the empty place beneath Howl's heart. The thin man remembered all to bitterly what he had lost as a result of turning his back on his obligations. And now Markl and Barimus were in peril as well; indeed, so was the whole of Ingary. The Wallmaker understood how much depended on him and for once he did not try to shirk his burden.

Howl once again thought of his wife.

The wizard never ceased to be amazed by the brown-eyed woman's perseverance: it was one of her most endearing and infuriating characteristics. Perhaps this is what made Sophie so constant? Through her conviction, the silver witch's had the ability to make all things possible. She was the fulcrum around while he orbited madly, held together by her consistency. Sophie's love gave Howl faith in his abilities. Indeed she was their strength; perhaps that's why he felt lost without her. For the sake of their children, the Wallmaker was willing to be strong without Sophie.

He missed her with mad irrationality,muchin the same way that flowers stretch desperately for the sun but will never reach it.

"When the time comes, all I ask is that you cooperate," the sorcerer replied in an even voice as he turned back to the stare at the dark plume of ash that rose over the city.

xXx

This place was nothing and at the same time it was everything.

Deirdre felt as though she was floating, indeed she did not appear to have any corporeal existence. As the woman's mind opened up to encompass all things she realized all at once she was not alone. But the other was as omnipresent as she. It was as though they occupied the same space in that twilight place beyond all things.

_What? _Drie asked in confusion finding it difficult to talk to herself.

_You mean who? _She could see the voice in her mind and it was like watching herself speak in a mirror. They were the same.

To distract herself from the queasy feeling brought on by listing to thoughts that were indistinguishable from her own, Drie turned her eyes elsewhere. She realized all at once with an electric thrill that they were beyond the indigo veil. Somehow they had gained access to the nowhere that filled the spaces in between worlds. The Wallmaker's daughter looked upon the simultaneous infinity that was at once creation and destruction. It was like feeling everything at once: hate, love, grief, joy. It was like seeing every color simultaneously, rolling through a great wave of everything. It left her dizzy and drunk. The silver haired girl discovered it felt no better that listening to herself talk. But the vastness made Drie feel small and lonely.

A conversation with the universe tends to be one sided.

Thus the silver haired girl drew herself inward and stared at the mirror image in her mind once more. She regarded the presence with tangerine curiosity as it colored a nervous navy blue.

_I am you? _The nervous voice split like rotting fruit to reveal the fretful muddied magenta of its incomprehension.

_Yes_. Drie replied simply as though she were in a dream, her lazy orbit in the belly of creation making her sleepy. But she was torn from her complacency by the icy shriek that twisted her insides around white hot threads of terror.

_NOT POSSIBLE!_ She heard the other within her rage incredulously. Pallid grays of perplexity gave way to the molten revelation that bloomed in the corridors of her mind. In that moment a torrent of memories came rushing into Deirdre. The twilight calm shredded like thin indigo silk as the darkness welled up around her like thick cold mud. It weighted her limbs and sparked a sulfurous plume of panic in her heart. The muck gave way into a void and the new woman fell through mists of time.

Drie remember memories that were not her own.

When she opened her eyes there was black sand beneath her palms; the obsidian grains cut her skin like shards of glass. Looking up she stared at the hideous boiling sky, which rolled with orange and red like it was on fire. A scorched wind tore relentlessly at her blistering skin as she stumbled to her feet. The merciless landscape of the plains of pain stretched endlessly before her and in the distance she could hear the screams of the twisting lights that suffered endlessly. Drie had never heard them before, there was no sound in the otherworld. But the silver sorceress' daughter realized that she was a passive observer to the memories. The body she rode turned and regarded the Dull Wall so closely that she could see the mortar between the bricks. All too familiar hands made of black water plucked at the barrier in a futile effort to quell the overwhelming need to escape the place of fire and torment.

Drie realized all at once that these were the Door daemon's memories.

The pain from the contact with the Wall was corporeal in spite of her passive state and Drie felt the ache like salt on a fresh wound. But Door did not feel the snapping bite of the Wall's hunger, the daemon's desperation made her bold. The spirit had not been in the burned place for very long. Despondency had not yet robbed her of the memories of a place that was filled with goodness. The disembodied girl felt the flash of warm sun and smelled the clear air sweet more than she saw it. The moment of clarity was enough to make her tremble as it withdrew. All that mattered was escape, and Drie lost herself to the creature's need.

Suddenly a great pressure pulsed through the otherworld, heralding the portal that ripped through the Wall. In the doorway stood a tall thin woman with short grey hair. Her face was pinched with grief and madness showed in the whites of her eyes. Drie recognized Mrs. Danna immediately and she recoiled in horror. But she was subject to the other's will and could not flee. Danna was dressed in healer's greens, although her hands were stained red with blood, which she clutched a silver knife. Door leapt at the portal, seeing only escape. But Danna lashed out at her with the blade and the daemon recoiled from the stinging magic metal with an audible hiss.

The smell of blood was even more maddening that the desperation of need to flee. Beyond Mrs. Danna Drie saw with the eyes of a daemon a woman with vacant milky eyes dressed in white. The Wallmaker's daughter recognized the empty woman immediately, in spite of the fact that she lay in a pool of blood that gathered like scarlet water. It spilled from a wound on her breast over her heart. Normally she would have retched at the sight; but seeing the world through Door's eyes was like loosing the ability to feel.

Emotions were replaced by a twisting fog: every smell and sound clambered with invisible meaning devoid of emotion. As the Door regarded the broken shell, she could taste that there was no life in the girl. The daemon could read from the subtle clues that hung around them that the force of her light had been stolen to open a gate into the world beyond the Dull Wall. The stink of magic was bitter like magnesium fire in her nose. The mortal had possessed a strong gift of magic when alive. Were she not dead the woman would have been a powerful vessel, a way to escape the plains of pain.

"Daemon," Danna's voice was thick as she spoke, her fear had an acrid metal smell, like blood waiting to be spilled, "I will let you through."

Door shifted her gaze back to the former healer and saw that there was no magic in her, only in the silver blade with which the mortal barred her way. But the daemon was weak with pain from the torments of the world behind them and knew it could not fight the blood magic on the knife.

_Bargain?_ The daemon chimed in a chorus of metallic voices that rang like the crackle of a dry fire.

"Yes," Danna replied, her voice was resolved with an iron finality that showed in her wild eyes, "I will bring you into this world, but you will be my slave. You and your magic will be mine."

_How? _The daemon's voice was dubious, but Drie already knew that Door had surrendered to the woman's offer. With her free hand and without taking her eyes from the creature, Danna indicated the body in the other room.

_Broken! _Was Door's querulous cry.

Danna seemed surprised and her uncertainty left her white with terror. The regal woman folded under the weight of her failure, as though she had lost the very will to stand. Seeing the daemon collector pale and lost was disturbing to Drie, although the blood on her hands prevented her from pitying her former captor in that moment. But Door was not about to loose her freedom so easily.

_Can fix her, but need something from you. _The daemon purred convincingly as they crept closer to the portal. This close to the mortal world the air was clean, like the good place they had almost forgotten. Drie was finding it more and more difficult to sort herself from the creature's recollections. Danna straightened like a bolt of lightening, her grey eyes wary as the silver knife once more barred their way. Door came up short. They hovered between worlds, caught between the searing fire of the plains of pain and icy silver blade.

"What do you require?" The future daemon queen spat in disgust as she recoiled slightly. Door and Drie inched closer, greed welling up within them like a putrid miasma. They clenched and unclenched their hands in anticipation, a different kind of need burning in the emptiness in their belly.

_Your heart!_ They chimed exultantly. _Bargain?_

Danna blinked in surprise, but the expression was fleeting. Suliman's sister's face went cold and blank and then split into a contemptuous sneer. It twisted her regal features into a mask of hatred as she lowered the knife.

"Take it, daemon. I have no use for it anymore."

Door rushed forward through the barrier like a cold wind. In the moment before the daemon descended upon the woman Drie had almost called mother, the vision shattered. She was catapulted back into the calm twilight world where she sank like a stone to the bottom of a still pond. As the universe spiraled around them lazily and after what seemed like an eternity, the Wallmaker's daughter came back to her senses. As she unfolded, within her mind Drie could feel the other's hot resentment and the slick metal cruelty of its enjoyment over having caused her pain.

_I AM DAEMON! _It shrieked and railed against her with the shadowed wings of its thoughts. But Deirdre could sense the purple sorrow that welled up deep within its crimson rage. They were one and there could be no secrets between them. She could feel Door's cold white terror and its bewildered uncertainty over the barrage of new emotions and senses it had never before encountered. Drie responded to the daemon's petulance with patience.

_If you are a daemon, then I am a daemon. Likewise, if I am mortal, so too are you._

The truth of their situation bloomed with violet certainty as the newly formed sorceress saw with her othersight through the ragged doorway of her soul back the way they had come. Somehow she and the daemon had merged as they were pulled into a placebeyond the indigo veilby the backlash of magic from the Dull Wall. Through the doorway beneath her heart came another torrent of memories and once again they were not her own. Both she and the other were overwhelmed by their power.

But these were full of the love only a mother could give.

They were in a strange house, under their eyes it glimmered and sparkled with magic. The very tables and chairs that filled the undivided space between the kitchen and the large hearth teemed with enchantments. But a broom as mundane as the dust it gathered up was clutched between their hands. With brisk efficiency they attacked a floor that had swept just the other day. But satisfaction filled them as they worked. Through the strange woman's eyes they saw a fat old lady in a chair by the hearth. She was knitting something, muttering to a round little dog in her lap. The creature was half daemon, but had probably forgotten it had ever been anything but a dog. A cheerful fire with wide eyes burned in the hearth and Drie was surprised to find that it was another daemon. But this creature was not like any other she had encountered. It was part human, and that seemed to shake the other within her to its very roots.

A chorus of stomping footsteps on the stairs overhead heralded the arrival of a fleet of noisy wizards. They flew down onto the kitchen like a flock of laughing birds. The smallest landed first; he was barely six and had raven hair that shone like the night sky. Drie recognized Akarshan immediately and she was shocked to by the revelation that he was her brother. The second tallest was also her brother, although Markl was more than twice her age. He had russet hair, golden brown eyes and an easy smile; the young wizard was tall for his age, but rail thin.

But the tallest of the brood was just as thin, although the lanky man was powerful in spite of his spindly appearance. The wizard Howl's face burst into a radiant smile as he came forward and swept his wife up into an affectionate embrace. He was the most handsome man Drie had ever seen. There was no doubt that this was Akarshan's father, the resemblance was uncanny. But that meant he was her father as well. Love bloomed like silver fire within them, so fierce and tremendous that they could only bask in its glow.

"Hello, Mrs. Witch!" The Wallmaker smirked down at his the woman, his face alight with happiness. Even though it was a memory, hearing their father's mellow voice for the first time was like listening to the sun rise.

"Hello, horrible Howl," Sophie replied, her words showed like starlight within Drie's mind.

_Our parents?_ The other asked in awe, which gave way to a trembling blossom of hope. But Drie's reply was lost as the memory shattered and her other half cried out as the vision faded. With terrible anguish, she and Door remembered what had happened in the moments before they awoke in this place between worlds. There was no time for words as the Wallmaker's daughter and the other folded inward through the ragged doorway within them. Together they fled back to whence they had come.

xXx

Drie felt as though she was being turned inside out.

For a mortal who was used to maintaining a consistent form, the sensation was not painful as much as it was disconcerting. The Door daemon had never been any more substantive than water. She did not appear to be affected in anyway by the constricting feeling that closed around them as they slipped between worlds. But Deirdre wasn't thinking about herself at that moment. Bright lights dazzled their eyes as the vast twilight curved around them. They pierced through the mercurial beyond, which resolved into the velvet indigo sky of the otherworld. For a brief moment a great pressure crushed them and it felt like they had burst through the surface of a deep river. As the young woman drew in a ragged breath the otherwind leapt up around her.

Corporeality returned to the blue eyed girl and her knees buckled under the forgotten weight or her mortal body. She tumbled into the grass mere inches from her mother's inert form. As she caught sight of the silver sorceress, she scrambled upright and reached out to shake the aged woman. But Drie faltered. A terrible emptiness opened within her as they saw with her other eyes that their mother was gone.

_Wake her up!_ Door's anxious voice twisted fretfully in the tattered remnants of her mind. But the woman stared down at Sophie and bowed under the crushing weight of her abject desolation. The other raged against the smothering grief that threw up a barrier between them. _WAKE HER!_

_She's dead, Door. _Drie snapped at the other in bitter anguish as she gathered handfuls of her mother's apron. _Mrs. Danna killed her. _A flood of tears fell from her to soak the white fabric. Quiet like the calm before the storm descended in the young woman's mind as her twin stilled, freezing in place like a piece of ice.

_NO_! Door screamed and ripped the Wallmaker's daughter from her grief. The other erupted into a blazing frenzy of guilt ridden denial. Human emotions overwhelmed the newborn half daemon and it plunged into feral despair over having just gained a mother only to loose her. It tore away from Deirdre, dragging her from Sophie across the green hills, attempted to flee its sorrow. The woman shrieked in pain as she clawed at the grass, feeling as though she were being ripped in half. Indeed, had another set of eyes been present to watch the terrible event, they would have seen the young woman separate like water cleaved by some unseen knife.

Two beings tumbled away from one another into the grass.

Derdrie scrambled back against Sophie's still form and stared in horror at the floundering creature before her. It was a woman, about twenty six years of age, with silver hair so long it tangled in the constant otherwind like a spider's web. Like an infant, the woman tottered to her feet uncertainly, her knees trembling as she blinked wide blue eyes at her graceful hands. Those eyes went black as blackasobsidianthey fell upon Drie and her lovely features twisted into an expression of terrible dismay. Door pawed at her face incredulously and thrust an accusing finger at her twin.

_YOU!_ The half human shrieked as she stumbled backwards, her voice mad with revulsion. Turning, the chimera tore a hole through the otherworld and plunged blindly into the mortal realm beyond.

Traumatized beyond all response, Drie turned and buried her face in her mother's chest.


	8. Chapter 8: The Daemon Queen

**Twilight Doom: Part III of the Wallmaker Saga**

**Chapter 8: The Daemon Queen**

Theresa had never flown this high before.

The buildings that passed quickly beneath them as they flew towards the center of Kingsbury were as tiny as doll houses. The vast emptiness beneath her feet gave her a horrible sense of vertigo and the little red head could not help but want to empty the contents of her stomach. But she did not want to upset her mistress. Martha did not appear to be faring much better than her apprentice and the herbalist clutched her hands around her assistant's waist so tightly that the young girl had trouble breathing. But desperation made her bold and the freckled girl flew with a confidence she had never before felt. Markl's safety depended on them.

"There it is!" Martha shouted over the wind.

Peering through green eyes that watered under the wind of their speed, the young herbalist saw the great golden dome framed against a ghastly plume of black smoke. The palace was on fire and she could see yellow flames licking through breeches in the red and yellow rubble that crumbled away from the side of the palace. The apprentice leaned forward and dipped low over the twisting streets that wove like empty grey ribbons beneath them. She could see the inner wall of Kingsbury, and the golden winged lions above the stripped heraldic crest of Ingary's capital gleamed like a guiding beacon. Suddenly, twin explosions rocked the city ahead of them. Building crumbled into rubble as two great spouts of yellow black flame reached up into the sky for them.

"Daemons!" Martha shrieked.

Her words melted into a scream as Theresa banked like a swallow and dove, twisting between the seeking tendrils of the living flames. Harried by the wrathful fire, the herbalist and her apprentice plunged from the sky into the streets below. The little girl had to pull on the shaft of her hoe with all her might to keep from crashing into the cobblestones. Cutting to the side, they sped through the empty avenues, skirting the edge of the palace as the wrath daemons surged after them, barring their way to the center of the city.

By this time Martha had recovered enough to wrench one of the glass vials from her bandolier. The royal wizard's wife threw it into the putrid flames that pursued them. One of the daemons shrieked as the vial shattered and its contents ignited, releasing a great burst of green smoke. It fell back into the hazy miasma only to be replaced by its companion, which surged forward in a mass of wriggling flames. The yellow-black daemon resolving into a huge lizard-like entity, which darted out its triangular head to snapped at them in frustration.

Theresa pulled a hard right and shot down a narrow alleyway only to realize it was a dead end. But the sound of crumbling bricks heralded the daemon's presence on the roofs above them, and ash and embers rained down on them. Through the dripping fire the herbalist's apprentice caught sight of a large glass window on the street level of at the end of the passageway.

"Pull up! Pull up!" Martha screeched as the brick wall loomed before them, but they could not go up. The daemon waited for them there. Theresa decided that instead of up,they would go through.

"Hang on!" The curly haired girl shouted as she hunched forward, gaining speed. Her mistress almost crushed the apprentice around her middle as they crashed through the low window.

Instinct took over as Theresa wheeled and veered through the chambers of the building. Luckily the town house belonged to a rich family who could afford high ceilings and large open chambers. Only once or twice did the freckled girl crawl to a near stop to kick open a doorway or navigate through the winding rooms. As they burst into a large ballroom, sunlight showed through the tall windows that lined the outside boulevard. Theresa almost lost some hair to the chandelier overhead as they shot like an arrow through the glass panes into the street outside.

Once again the herbalist's apprentice had to careen to the side as she nearly collided with a group of red garbed witches and wizards that gathered at the foot of the great open courtyard before the palace. One of the Igarian wizard guards shouted and pointed into the sky. His brethren scattering on foot and into the air like leaves in the wind as the wrath daemon chirped overhead and plunged into the square.

It shrieked and snapped its great jaws, swiping its claws at the red garbed figures, which darted and twisted about like a crimson flock of swifts. Theresa dodged among the airborne witches and wizards, who cast multi-colored balls of magic at the harried beast. Martha once again surfaced and retracted a hand long enough to lob another vial at the daemon. It keened a sound like metal being torn in two and crashed back against the town houses that lined the square to escape the plume of green smoke. Suddenly its brother clambered up onto the top of the inner wall, shaking its head as though to clear its mind. It teetered and clawed at the bricks only to come crashing into the courtyard with a mournful wail.

As Martha and Theresa burst out of the fray and circled higher over the creatures. As they reached a safe height and slowed to a hover the herbalist and her apprentice noticed that the witches and wizards were drawing the daemons forward. Moving through a complex series of feints involving bombardments and baiting traps, the Royal Guard of witches and wizards simultaneously pushed and pulled the daemons towards the center of the square.

"What are they doing? They're bringing them towards the palace!" The freckled girl half shrieked as she made ready to dive from the morning sky. But Martha stopped her apprentice, her large green eyes severe as she peered down into the furious magic battle below. Although her hands were once again clamped like a vice around the little girl's waist.

"We can't see it, but there's a gigantic banishing circle in the middle of the courtyard," the herbalist replied in a fierce voice, "Barimus described it to me once. It's another remnant from the Mage Wars that took place here a long time ago."

At that moment two figures in red separated from the group and shot up into the sky towards them. As they drew near Theresa saw that the wizards were twins, with matching copper curls and merry green eyes. They circled her and Martha in perfect unison, regarding them from afar at first.

"Peoter-Deiter?" The herbalist called out the two names as though they were one.

"Since when do hedge witches fly?" The wizards called back in perfect unison as they wheeled and floated before them linked arm in arm. Theresa was at a complete loss over which was who. She had met the twin wizards only once when they had come to visit Martha's shop. But she had been too shy to speak and had gone out into the garden to hide.

"Where is Barimus?" Martha answered heatedly.

"Contact with Captain Cyaninewas severed just after dawn," spoke one and where he left off his twin began, "According to her last relay, she and the Lord Councilor were headed to the shield room with a group of apprentices."

The smiles faded from their faces as they pointed to the shattered dome on the Palace's eastern side, from which black smoke poured. Another explosion erupted from the side of the palace and the twins cast up their arms in horror. Martha went pale with dread and Theresa faltered in the air as they watched the yellow fire bloom like a hideous blackened flower into the sky overhead. The daemons below suddenly thrummed deeply and turned towards the detonation. The wrathful lizards chirped cryptically and surged forward towards the broken wall.

Peoter and Deiter cast a mortified look over their heads at some unseen force in the sky and then shot off towards the dome.

As the daemons thundered forward beneath them, Martha and Theresa flew after the twins. The leading creature suddenly scrabbled and fell as it came to a halt like it hit a brick wall. The fiend screeched and thrashed about, held against the ground by some unseen force as it brother retreated from it with a wary bugle. For a moment, the herbalist and her apprentice could see a vast red circle of burning light, which sprang up around the trapped creature. It shrilled mournfully and then dissolved into ashes. With a surprised keen, the remaining fiend scrambled backwards and clawed its way onto the roofs of the townhouses. It gave a challenging bellow as the fleet of witches and wizards once again rose up to besiege it with magic. As the burning palace reared up before her eyes, the young apprentice cast a final glance over her shoulder at the wizard's guard.

There was nothing she could do to help them.

xXx

As the smoke cleared, Markl was jubilant to find he was still alive.

But his exultation was fleeting as the crushing weight of exhaustion flooded through him in the wake of the enormous amount of magic he had spent to hold the magic circle. Cinders choked him and the thick smoke burned his eyes as his knees trembled. The foul stench of burning sulfur made him want to retch as the young wizard struggled to stay on his feet. Suliman's staff felt like fire between his hands and the Wallmaker's eldest son knew he would be dead if it were not for its magic. But the hateful laughter that pierced the haze galvanized him in spite of the tremulous flicker that passed through the violet circle beneath him.

The wrath daemon thrust its head through the smoke as the daemon queen strode out from its flames. Mrs. Danna's collection of daemons clambered about her feet, flickering like shadows in the heat of the crackling black fire that twisted about her. She seemed to glow a sickly green, like there was a fire beneath the thin membrane of her skin. Markl could not help but flinch as she turned endless black eyes upon him, her face splitting to reveal a set of cruelly pointed teeth. It reminded the russet haired boy too much of the puppet daemon and he shuddered in spite of himself, going weak with terror.

"Suliman!" Barimus gasped in astonishment. And the young wizard cast a glance at his uncle only to find him thunderstruck as though he had seen a ghost. The twisted healer turned her vicious gaze to the prone royal wizard and she snorted contemptuously.

"Do not confuse me with the dead, red wizard. You will be with your master soon enough!" The daemon collector's voice boomed through the broken shell of the room like a clap of thunder.

As Mrs. Danna approached the edge of his magic, Markl could feel the tremendous power she wielded. Her presence exuded a physical force that compelled him to submit, threatening to crush him even in that very moment. Rearing up, she stretched like a living fire, loosing all semblance of humanity as her daemons reached out for him hungrily with sharp claws. She was terrifying, but Markl stood firm, and the light of his magic solidified. The daemon queen regarded him with eyes of pitch and the ground beneath her feet snapped and froze as ice encased the chunks of rubble beneath her shades.

"Give up, boy," her voice rang like a chorus of malicious metal bells, "I promise to prolong your suffering as long as you could have hoped to hold out."

"Markl, run!" Barimus shouted hoarsely.

"Wait your turn!" Danna cackled nastily, rippling like a mauve conflagration.

Markl may not have had the strength to reply, but he would not submit. The silver sorceress' son knew that he was the only thing that stood between his family and oblivion.

"Your have inherited your mother's stubborn streak, son of the Wallmaker," the daemon queen growled like a great cat as she extended her obsidian talons threateningly. Again she bared her fangs as a voracious looked crept into her eyes, "I will enjoy ripping it from your flesh!"

Before she could rush forward, a series of magical ballistics pelted Mrs. Danna and her wrath daemon. The witch of fire and ice bowed under a curving shield of black ice as the fire sizzled about her. One of the daemons at her feet dissolved in the flames and winked out of existence with a mournful wail. The witch gave a furious screech that mirrored her flame lizard's cry of surprise as it was forced to the ground under the furious aerial attack.

"Peoter-Dieter!" Barimus cried exultantly as the twin wizards swooped down from the sky overhead. As one of the copper haired men focused his energies on the wrath daemon, the other bombarded the dark healer with a barrage of golden-red magic.

But Mrs. Danna cast aside his attack as though it were a fly buzzing in her ear. The crackling bolts of black ice she hurled in their direction shattered mid air, assailing them with thousands of jagged obsidian knifes. One of the wizards threw a shield over he and his twin, but the two men could not stand against the force of the shadowed witch's blow. Together they were dashed to the ground not far in front of the fire lizard. With a predatorial screech, the daemon slashed and harried at them with its teeth and burning claws, thrumming in excitement.

Out of the blue above fell a glinting rain of small glass vials.

As the ampoules shattered on the wrath daemon a series of green smoke explosions rose up around the beast as the liquid within ignited in its fire. The beast gagged and moaned in a rasping gurgle as it choked on the herbaceous smelling miasma. While it was distracted, Peoter and Dieter were able to escape into Markl's circle. Even Mrs. Danna was affected by the jade mists and the daemon queen dwindled back to her human form as she staggered. Coughing and gasping for air, she disappeared into the thick emerald fog.

Martha and Theresa dropped from the sky like a pair of valkaries and landed inside of the protective barrier of the purple circle. Seeing his aunt and her apprentice made Markl's heart soar with hope and gave him strength.

"Barimus!" The herbalist cried in mixed joy and terror as she jumped from behind her apprentice and stumbled through the rubble to her husband's side. The red wizard stared up at the dark-haired woman and smiled as though she were the hint of rain over an eternal desert. The healer kissed him soundly and the red wizard clung to her as she went to work. Martha managed to pull suitable bits of wood from the rubble near by to make splints for his legs. The twin wizards coughed and wheezed, gasping in the clean air inside the edge of the purple fire as they grimaced.

"What kind of magic is that?" They sputtered in unison, gazing out into the green haze with horror.

"It's not magic," Theresa replied as she tore the long hem of her tunic into bandages for Barimus' broken legs, "Its agrimony tincture."

"You two," Martha barked and the twins jumped to attention, "Get Barimus behind the inner shield."

The red wizard gritted his teeth and nearly fainted from the pain as the twin wizards shifted him. Barimus weakly reached for his wife as his guards carried him past the golden barrier. As Martha looked after them as she stood, her green eyes dark with emotion, she clutched the ruby that her husband had given her and went to follow.

"Wait!" Markl cried, turning his attention away from the green haze a moment too late as the twins and his uncle disappeared behind the inner shield. King Ferdinand met the Peoter-Dieter, and the royal wizard with a burst of soundless shouting and wild gesturing. The copper haired men jumped to attention, having gently turned over the royal to the cluster of apprentices. The ruler of Ingary apparently order the wizards back out into the fray because they rushed forward and hit their heads as they tried to return to Markl's side. Martha stared at them in consternation, going white with surprise as she realized they could not return through the barrier. Not even King Ferdinand could pass, and he was not a wizard.

"They're stuck!" Cried Theresa; the herbalist's apprentice had lagged behind in concern for her mistress' nephew, who was pale and damp with exertion. The circle beneath their feet was beginning to pale; the russet haired boy could see that as plainly as the look of stern apprehension on his aunt's face. Martha came over to his side fixing him with a questioning expression before darting her eyes back to where the glass spire gleamed brightly like a trapped star.

"You can't see it, Aunt Martha, but its there," Markl explained weakly, "The shield is one-way only; they can't come back through."

Suddenly a great wind ripped through the crumbled shell of the shield room and the green haze split as though it had been sliced with a knife. It drew back to reveal an enraged Mrs. Danna, who looked grey and sick but just as formidable as she cast aside the jade smoke. Her wrath daemon reared its head into the clear air and the ground shook as it stumbled to his feet, keening for retribution. It was answered in the distance by the cry of another daemon and Mrs. Danna began to gather herself up once more, the shadows in the room darkening as she seemed to absorb all light. She fixed her eyes on Martha and their lidless black corridors filled with such a venomous expression of unadulterated hate that Markl felt his heart go cold.

"YOU!" The former healer snarled as her humanity fell away like the cloak of night before the wrath of the daemon born magic within her. The witch of fire and ice stalked forward one more, burning eyes fixed on Martha. The herbalist went white with terror and stumbled back as she snatched Theresa to her protectively. But as the monstrous woman approached the edge of the violet barrier she began to slow as though she were wading through water. But Markl regarded her defiantly, holding firm in spite of his fatigue.

Suddenly, another barrage of magic fire fell from the sky. The Wallmaker's eldest son cast his eyes into the blue only to catch sight of the flock of the red garbed Ingarian Wizards Guard circling high overhead. Deftly, as though she were made of shadow, the daemon queen danced around their fire and shouted a loathsome spidery word. It oozed like a leech through the young wizard's mind, leaving him feeling sick and filthy. The onslaught from above pattered uselessly against a black membrane of ice that domed over the daemon collector. Markl gritted his teeth and firmly planted his shoulders against the shower of friendly fire that deflected off of Mrs. Danna's barrier and shattered in great sparks against his shield.

The daemon queen screeched another word in the hideous language of the Dark as she pointed a clawed finger at the wizards above. The wrath daemons swiveled their triangular heads to the sky; with frustrated screeches and snapping jaws, the beasts sought and harried the airborne witches and wizards with tongues of fire and tails of flame. Silver threads snicked through the air, flying like volley of needles cast by silent death into the sky above. The puppet daemons that killed Cyanine faded in and out of solidity beyond Mrs. Danna.

As Markl caught sight of the fiends, a blinding ferocity bloomed within the young man's mind. Cracking Suliman's stick against the large stone he stood on, a wrathful purple wind erupted around the young wizard like the leading edge of a storm. Beneath the two puppet daemons twin banishing circles exploded into life. With a shriek like a rusted hinge being forced open, the creatures dissolved into ash as they were expelled from the mortal world.

The abruptness of their exit seemed to pain Mrs. Danna, who shuddered in surprise as she felt them ripped from her control. The daemon collector snapped her attention back to Markl and she regarded first the apprentice and then her dead sister's staff with a baffled expression of frank alarm. Although she was in her full daemon form, the look of doubt on her face was as mortal as any human's. Something passed across her face, an expression lost to the yellow-black fire of her outline. Regardless, it chilled the rage that had momentarily consumed Howl's apprentice.

Suddenly the shades at Mrs. Danna's feet began shifting about in a frantic jumble as the witch of fire and ice threw out her hands, dexterously dodging around magic missiles from above. The wrath daemons paused in their defensive positions and bugled in response to the woman's magic. The beasts began to fade like mist and they sank to the ground, pooling into reservoirs of viscous darkness where once they had been solid. But their clamorous roar remained and lost none of their intensity. It splitting the air and causing the rubble beneath Markl's feet to shift; his magic circle began to weaken as its boarder fluctuated beyond his ability to control.

"Get inside the barrier," Markl cried in desperation as he clung madly to Suliman's stick.

"Not without you!" Theresa screamed reaching for him insistently as Martha fought to hold her back.

"I can't hold the circle from inside," The young wizard shouted back as the building gave an unsetting lurch. Cold terror gripped him as the daemon queen snatched her hands inward and the darkness that was the wrathful beasts rushed towards her like a swell of black water. It crashed around her like wave smashed upon the rocks, twisting upwards to engulf her. But Mrs. Danna was not gone; the trailing edges of his other-senses seared under the ice of the stirring power that skittered outwards from the dark shape. The survivors of the wizard guard overhead sensed it as well, hanging back in the sky with wary trepidation.

All of a sudden, a membraned wing as black as coal burst from the ooze, followed by another as an obsidian hydra erupted from the freezing cocoon. The behemoth reared back and thrashed its tail and rending the ground with its claws as it threw up its many needle snouts to bellow at the sky. The snarling nightmare loomed up over the exhausted apprentice, snapping its jaws. The air around them began to freeze and Markl could clearly see his breath as black ice sheeted over the rubble around them. The hideous thing clawed at the ground with knife like talons, shrieking with the unholy chorus of its rage. The young wizard was petrified; only in the darkest of his dreams had he ever imagined such a creature. There was only so much an apprentice could do, even with Suliman's stick in his hands. With cold certainty, the Wallmaker's son knew in his heart that this fight was beyond him.

As Markl's knees buckled, the circle beneath his feet went dark.

Martha seized her nephew by the hood of his patch worked cloak and hauled him backwards into the safety behind the inner shield. A cacophony of shrieking voices and heated shouting assaulted the boy's ears a moment before he was blinded by a blue flash of light.

xXx

Like a coiled spring, Howl waited.

The witches and wizards from near and far were gathered in a circle around him, so near that normally the raven-haired man would have itched to flee. But his intense concentration was focused on the singular point of the green jade necklace that hung around his neck. The thin wizard held it in the cup of his graceful hand, staring at it as though there were nothing else in the world. Calcifer circled above his friends head lazily, darting his eyes about as he caught one of the other witches or wizards staring at him.

"You'd think they'd have seen a daemon before," the living flame muttered under his breath petulantly as he tinged an irritated orange.

Howl didn't reply.

His luminous blue eyes flickered with inner light as the fey look on his face melted into uncharacteristic fierceness. A mark of blue fire swam into life above the necklace as the Wallmaker straightened with an exultant shout. The otherwind ripped to life around him, lifting him off the ground as the wizard's glowing nimbus of blue and purple fire cleaved a portal into the otherworld. Calcifer dove through the magic doorway into the next world, leading the way for the sorcerers and sorceresses.

"Go!" Howl barked and as they hesitated the sapphire aura around the raven-haired man crackled ominously, "Now!"

The magical reinforcements streamed through the portal into a place of twilight doom. As the last dropped into the indigo veil below, Howl plunged through the portal casting a look at the blue sky overhead as it faded into a velvet navy devoid of stars. But glimmering points of light winked into existence far beneath his feet as he sank slowly and for a moment the inverted juxtaposition was disorienting. Many sorcerers feared this place, which existed like a dream between the mortal world and the beyond. The green hills were deceptively calm and it was easy to loose oneself in it constant winds. But the Wallmaker had never dreaded this place. It seemed like an eternity since the lanky man had last set foot in this world, in spite of the fact that it had only been barely four days since the handsome wizard had visited this place. So much had happened.

And even here all was not well.

Raucous silent echoes rippled throughout the otherworld, heralding great unrest in the green plains. Howl felt the disturbance physically and it tingled through him like the unnerving sensation that comes with sitting in place too long. Something had happened here, something involving great magic. The echoes were too crisp and new to have come from the mortal world. They pulsed like red and violet waves, rolling back and forth through his mind in a cacophony of distracting lights. The Dull Wall was intact, that much Howl knew for sure. But the Wallmaker was greatly distressed by the instability in the indigo veil and experienced a compelling moment of indecision: should he seek out and remedy the disturbance in the otherworld? No, he dashed that thought from his mind as the memory of his family rose through his conflicted thoughts.

Casting his eyes into the distance, Howl could see that the other witches and wizards felt the echoes too. Although it appeared to be far more debilitating for them; the foreigners listed uncertainly not far away from the raven-haired man. Calcifer was madly darting back and forth around the sorcerers and sorceresses, trying to get them to follow him to no avail. With swift efficiency the Wallmaker twisted weightlessly in the air and propelled himself forward with a movement of his hands. In the distance of the indigo veil he could see a tiny point of sky blue, which stood out like a misplaced beacon against the dark firmament.

_Follow Calcifer! _Howl sent the deafening thought to the witches and wizards. His voice echoed like thunder through the veil and the blue eyed sorcerer winced regretfully. It would no do to be booming about this hallowed place, especially what was responsible for the magical unrest might hear. But his words had an effect on the sorcerers and sorceress, who seemed to return to themselves and began drifting after the living flame toward the distant portal to the mortal world.

Howl felt their arrival before they appeared, a keen sense of pressure flitted through his mind like the beginnings of a headache.

The star daemons fell from all directions like a great meteor shower, sparkling and gyrating about the journeying witches and wizards. But the normally playful nature of the shimmering beings was replaced by frenzied behavior the blue-eyed wizard had never seen before. The groups of sparkling lights were ancient spirits, normally calm and wise, their dark eyes brimming with unspoken mystery. But now they harried his companions, even reaching out with shining tendrils to pluck at their clothes and pull them off course. The witches and wizards recoiled in terror, conjuring shields and fire as they regarded the circling lights with trepidation. Howl shot forward just as the voices of the star daemons invaded his mind like the dissonant calls of a flock of crows. The ear-splitting racket pierced his inner ear painfully and the Wallmaker clasped his hands over his ears as he gave a silent cry of pain.

Calcifer erupted into a roaring ball of red and purple flames, snarling toothily at the other daemons as he clawed at them with burning talons. The living flame darted and chased off the majority of the lights, which evaded him easily as they circled off only to regroup at a distance. The fire daemon returned to Howls side, still baring his sharp teeth as he flickered darkly.

_You alright, Howl? _Cal asked.

_What do they want? _Howl asked shortly, shaking his head to clear his mind.

_I don't know. They're upset about something, butthe young ones never make any sense. _The fire daemon replied with a deep purple frown. Cal flitted aside as a nearby wizard latched onto the raven haired man.

_Save us, Wallmaker! _He cried in terror, but Howl easily extricated himself from the man's grasp. He pushed the man back at the huddled group of humans and pointed at the blue light in the distance.

_You don't need saving! _Howl couldn't help but be short with the blubbering man. How he ever become a wizard, the Wallmaker would never know.

_J__ust follow Calcifer through the portal. I'll distract the daemons. _The Wallmaker called to the group, which gave a start and then shot off in the direction of the doorway back to the mortal world. The fire daemon did not seem inclined to agree, and Howl nudged him after the floundering group. Calcifer dwindled smaller for a moment and seemed inclined to argue with his friend, coloring a worried blue.

_Tell Markl I'm right behind you. _Howl requested as he smiled encouragingly. The mention of his eldest son seemed to convince the little flame, who nodded and shot off ahead of the foreigners.

Almost as soon as his friend had gone, the voices of the stars invaded the Wallmaker's mind once more. Apparently the daemons were no longer interested in the other witches and wizards, because they fell in a circle around the handsome raven-haired man. They danced around him with cryptic calls reaching and beckoning as their fretful voices cutting at him like cold diamonds. Howl realized very quickly that they were not trying to be cruel and that their fierceness was simply frustration over the language barrier that separated them. Howl regretted having sent Calcifer away for the fire daemon might have been able to interpret what the shining lights were desperately trying to tell him. Suddenly the cacophony of crystalline voices ceased as another star fell from the sky. This being was the oldest among the star spirits, Howl could tell by the way the others drew back in deference. The lanky man had met this daemon before, when he and Barimus had taken Markl into the otherworld for the first time. Indeed the creature had been trying to warn him, Howl realized in bitter retrospect.

The elder star was the brightest among the daemons; it drew near, reaching its sparkling arms imploringly to the wizard. The tiny orbs that blinked at him from the corona that was its head were swirling pools of blue and violet. The Wallmaker's mind went immediately back to the tiny charm Akarshan had given him. Reaching into his pocket the wizard drew out the stone and stare at the mirror likeness between the two beings. The creature seemed to flare like a burst of magnesium fire at the sight of the charm and the chiming chorus of their voices invaded his inner ear once more. But instead of meaningless sounds, the handsome man understood the elder's words.

_Howl. _It spoke his name exuberantly.

_What do you want? _Howl drew back hesitantly. His pale face was serious as his eyes glittered luminously with his magic.

_Come. _The star daemon all but demanded, reaching for him with tendrils of light.

_No. _Howl replied firmly as his eyes crackled with blue fire and he threw up his hand to hold off the creature's advances. The tall man followed up his refusal by sending an image of Kingsbury on fire to the sparkling daemon. That seemed to give the being pause, but it shrugged off the peril in the mortal world and reached for him insistently.

_Sophie! _It cried in a tremulous voice, returning the wizard's mental reply with an image of the Wallmaker's wife.

With his inner eye Howl saw the silver haired woman reaching pleadingly to the star daemon, a mixture of love and despair plain in her brown eyes as she spoke his name. Her face was aged, almost as old as she had been when the hatter's daughter had first turned up in his castle. The wizard recoiled in horror from the dark tendril that wrapped around her neck. In the vision he could see it snaking like a viper in the green grass to the ravenous black bricks of the Dull Wall. The revelation shattered Howl once more, reducing him into a stunned shock as the image of his wife's face burned in his mind. Everything else was forgotten as the very sun seemed to rise from the tattered pieces of his soul. The Wallmaker filled with elation and it felt as though he were warm against after living for ages in the cold.

The had ring lied. Sophie was alive!

Instantaneously, the thin wizard dropped his shield and the elder star daemon encircled Howl's shoulders with its arms. The raven-haired man was propelled through the sky as the shimmering procession of shooting stars streaked across the indigo veil. Together they fell from the velvet firmament toward the looming coal smudge that was the Dull Wall.

In that moment the portal to the mortal world wavered and winked out of existence.


	9. Chapter 9: Reunion

**Twilight Doom: Part III of the Wallmaker Saga**

**Chapter 9: Reunion**

Howl fell from the sky with the stars.

Beneath him the green hills rolled gently, becoming level as they sloped gently to the endless smudge of darkness that split the otherworld in two. The Dull Wall loomed up before him and the thin wizard had a glimpse of the burned place beyond the barrier. Howl did not hate the Wall, unlike Barimus, who could not speak of it without spitting. It was the once place where the raven-haired man was more level headed than his brother. The red wizard was quick to feel anger and it often made him irrational. But the Wallmaker understood the importance of the barrier. In spite of the cruel price the mortal world had paid to remedy the ills of ages past, it was a necessary evil that preserved the balance. It was for the sake of that balance that he spent more time than any wizard in Ingary beyond the indigo veil. Perhaps that was why he was more troubled by the mortal world that this place of eternal wind.

But none of those thoughts were with Howl in that moment.

With the eyes of a hawk he fixed his attention on the blinding point of light that huddled at the foot of the Wall. The Wallmaker and his entourage of stars hit the ground so hard he was forced into a roll. Although Howl quickly gained his feet and strode forward through the shower of sparks and shimmering light as he cast his eyes about for Sophie. The raven-haired man came up short, his wife's name dying on his lips. To his surprise the blinding point of brightness that had guided him to this place resolved into two women: one old and one young.

The younger had curled up on the chest of the elder woman, whose face was turned away as if in sleep. The lady's long silver hair was loose and impossibly long. It tangled around the two in the otherwind like tides of a moonlit sea. The lass gave a violent start as he approached and turned her tear stricken face to regard him. She flinched as recognition and disbelief showed plainly in her eyes. For a moment Howl mistook the woman for his wife, they were about the same age and looked strikingly alike. But she regarded him with wide blue eyes bright with fear. Sophie's eyes were brown. This was not his wife, and it shocked him to see a stranger wearing his mother's sapphire earrings.

Confusion gripped the Wallmaker as did icy terror. It was then that he recognized the elder woman over which the other huddled. Only one person he knew would wear a blue dress with such plain and practical boots. He recalled with an electric shock how old Sophie had looked in the star daemons memory. Looking back to the chimera that could have been his wife, Howl could see Sophie's life-force teeming like fire beneath the creature's skin. He understood now why he had mistaken her for the mother of his children. But in that moment he saw more than light. Darkness cluttered just beyond the edges of her form, in the same way that a hint of shadow clings to everything. But the line of shade unfolded like a black curse beneath the tall wizard's eyes and Howl knew it was more than magic.

She was a daemon!

A corona of violent cobalt light erupted around the Wallmaker as the otherwind whipped about him in fury. His large sapphire eyes filled with rage. The handsome mask shattered as his raven hair fluttered wildly about the livid features it revealed. The stranger shrank from him in alarm, clambering backwards over Sophie's inert form as he stalked forward. Howl would have chased the daemon through the Dull Wall and into the beyond had Sophie not lay in the middle of his path. He half tripped over her body in his furious pursuit of the being he believed to have killed his wife. But glancing down at the aged woman, all the hate fled from his features and the wind of his magic dwindled to nothing.

Bereaved beyond all description, the Wallmaker crumbled to his knees and gently gathered his wife into his arms. The thin man buried his face in her hair; even now Sophie smelled like clean linen. How light she felt in his arms, like she was empty. No, the wizard vowed as he crushed her to him, he would not let her go. She had half of his soul and they could not be parted. Howl drew back and gazed at Sophie's aged features with a love so fierce it brought blue fire into his eyes. He tenderly brushed aside silver hairs that strayed. Leaning down, the wizard kissed her still lips.

In that moment an amazing thing happened.

Another wind rose up around the Wallmaker and the silver sorceress as the eldest of the star daemons approached like a wave from the sea. As it ebbed upwards on spindly legs, the creature reached out a shining hand to where Deirdre cowered in the grass. With a look of surprise, the woman seemed to understand the shimmering being's intent. With a determined nod, she took its hand. Extending its other hand, the star daemon placed its palm on Howl's back. A flash of light surged from the Wallmaker's daughter into the flickering spirit and through the wizard Howl to his wife. After the blinding light passed it could be seen that the hair at the handsome man's temples suddenly turned silver.

Howl gave a jolt as though he had been shocked for Sophie gasped and stirred in his arms. The years fled from the silver sorceress in the way one wakes from a dream. Her brown eyes flew open and she and Howl stared at one another with wordless wonder. With trembling hands, the raven haired man touched his wife's face as though he were afraid she would disappear. Sophie smiled in pure joy as she pressed his palm against her check and swept his long bangs from his eyes, regarding the new silver that showed in his dark hair with surprise.

_Howl! You've gone grey! _She spoke in consternation.

Her husband silenced the rest of her sentence with another kiss that left them both breathless. He drew back and regarded her with luminous blue eyes, which shined like sapphires in the mellow light of the star daemons. The sparkling beings sang happily in their minds, dancing to and fro as they wavered like living rainbows.

_How? _Was all Howl could manage to think at her over the chiming chorus in their minds. But it didn't matter. He once again crushed his wife against him and tucked her head under his chin, afraid to let her go. But Sophie wiggled in his arms and cast her gaze around her husband to where the oldest star lingered near a strange woman that could have been the silver haired woman's twin. The elder being chimed brightly in their minds and the Wallmaker turned to regard the daemon, only to catch sight of the chimera. Howl dashed to his feet, sweeping Sophie up into his arms protectively as he regarded the half daemon in disquiet. Deirdre shrank back once more, making ready to bolt from the wizard should she need to. Seeing the wizard's alarm, the star daemon swirled in front of the doppelganger holding out its shimmer limbs placating.

_Saved Sophie! _It cried in their minds as it sent an image of the strange woman giving of the magic within her to call the Wallmaker's wife back to life. It waved its hands back and forth from the sorceress and her husband to indicate the terrified woman.

_Daughter! _The star daemon spoke firmly as it pointed straight at the half daemon. Sophie had been peering at the woman and gave a violent start at the shimmering spirit's words.

_Deirdre! _Sophie called in horror as she struggled to break free from the Wallmaker's grasp.

The silver sorceress managed to break free, much to Howl's unease, and she stumbled past the star daemon to where the figure huddled in the shadow of the Dull Wall. At first the brown-eyed woman had not recognized the stranger, but her blue eyes were the exact same as Howl's. Sophie realized with dismay so acute she could scarcely think that her little girl had given up her childhood to break the parasitic ribbon that was stealing her mother's life. But there was more; the sorceress could see it just as her husband had. Something had changed their daughter; she was no longer human. Drie flicked her eyes from the tall wizard to her mother, flinching uncertainly as Sophie came to stand over her hesitantly with a pained expression on her face. Confused and distressed, the child-woman hid her face in her hands and began to cry silently. But Deirdre gave a start as Sophie gathered her against her.

_Mother! _Drie cried as she threw her arms around the witch's legs and clung to her as though the very ground had ceased to exist.

Sophie cast her brown eyes back to her husband and found him regarding them with a enigmatic expression. He had raised his hand as if to call his wife away from the half daemon that clung to her. But his feature cleared as the revelation of the girl's identity dawned on him like an avalanche. He shot a fierce seeking glace at his wife, who nodded solemnly. For a moment, all Howl could do was stare at his lost daughter, face blank with shock as his cerulean eyes glisten with incandescent light. Then he approached slowly, as if afraid to frighten the woman. He paused uncertainly at Sophie's side gazing down at Drie with a face pinched with grief. With earth shattering gentleness, the Wallmaker lay his hand on the top of his daughter's head and stroked her silver hair. She looked up at him, her face red with tears, but Howl recognized the sapphire blue of her eyes. They were his mother's eyes; he had been told on many occasions that he had inherited them. So too had his daughter.

_Father! _Deirdre's cry echoed like a torrent of joyous violet light in the corridors of his mind as she surged to her feet and threw herself into the Wallmaker's arms. Deep inside him, the frozen place his heart where he harbored all his guilt and sadness melted into nothing as he held his daughter. After a moment Howl was thunderstruck to realize she was nearly as tall as he was. Apparently she had inherited his height as well! Although the lanky wizard still managed to tuck the girl's head under his chin; the raven haired man snaked his free arm around his wife's waist to include her in their embrace. They clung together in tearful elation.

But the bliss of their reunion was fleeting.

A great wave of pressure washed through the otherworld and the star daemons flickered as their chiming chorus turned fearful. The burst upwards into the velvet firmament of the indigo veil and dwindled into nothing.

_Wait! _Deirdre cried, breaking free of her parents as she reached after the star daemons.

Howl came up along side of her, staring after the fleeing spirits. But his eyes were dark with worry as he listened to the silent echoes of magic used in the mortal world, which manifested as ripples that had as much physicality as the wind in their hair. Drie too noticed the reverberations and cocked her head to the side with a frown.

_What is that? _She asked curiously, gazing up at her father's worried face.

_Damn… The portal closed. _Howl swore; his normally serene features pinched with agitation as he mumbled in distraction. _We need to get back to the mortal world_. _Now!_

_What's wrong Howl?_ The silver sorceress spoke, her face serious. Sophie came along side of him and took a hold of his hand. She did not like the way her husband avoided looking at her, nor did he answer her question. He was smoothing the back of his hair unnecessarily.

_Can we go back through the castle's doorway? _Sophie continued hopefully, but her Howl shook his head.

_It will take too long_. He replied shortly.

_If I can get us back, will you let me go with you? _Deirdre asked hesitantly, apprehension plain on her face.

_Of course you're coming with us, Drie! _Sophie replied in surprise as she turned and reached out with her free hand to her daughter. Drie took it, clutching her mother's hand as though she were afraid her parents would disappear. The brown-eyed woman's heart gave a disconcerting lurch as she gazed up the tall lass. The child-woman had changed so much and it terrified the silver sorceress.

_You can take us back to the mortal world? How? _Much to his wife's annoyance, Howl skipped over his daughter's fear and cut straight to the fact that she could take them to the mortal world.

_Can you show me where we need to go?_ Drie replied, her unease apparent in the fact that she avoided answering the Wallmaker's question.

She blinked and her focus turned elsewhere as her father sent a dual image of a great glass spire pointed towards the bright light above. Another image of a tall blond man wearing nothing but red rose in her mind. From a store of memories that were not her own, the child-woman knew this man was her father's apprentice brother, the Royal Wizard Barimus. Drie blinked again and Howl drew back in alarm as their daughter's eyes went completely black. The Wallmaker's wife snatched back her hand as though she had been shocked and Howl pulled Sophie to him protectively. The pale skin of Drie's arm rippled and turned to viscous dark water as her graceful fingers resolved into cruel claws that glittered like jet.

With a swift movement teeming with inhuman strength, the half-daemon cut a hole between the otherworld and the mortal realm with her gleaming talons.

xXx

"Markl!"

Someone was shaking him and the russet haired boy recognized the herbalist's apprentice's voice. But he was so tired and snuggled into the soft fabric on which he rested. It must be Theresa, only she and his aunt smelled like a bitter herb closet. Besides, he wasn't hurt, and if it had been Martha she wouldn't have bothered to be so gentle with him. In the distance people were shouting and the young wizard moaned weakly as he tried to hide his face.

"Hey, wake up!" It was Calcifer who spoke this time, and the flames voice jolted him out of his hazy half consciousness.

As the Wallmaker's eldest son opened his eyes, he stared up into a red haired girl's concerned freckled face. There was grey ash smeared all over her and, as always, a multitude of sticks and leaves tangled in her hair. Over her head the fire daemon flickered a sickly green, whether from worry or physical discomfort he did not know. The young wizard realized with a burning sense of embarrassment that he was cuddling into her lap. Markl shot upright and stumbled wearily to his feet as he took in the pandemonium before him.

It was getting very crowded behind the inner shield.

Martha was standing before a great portal, holding aloft the ruby talisman she normally wore around her neck. In his othersight the young wizard could see the mark of blue fire that flowed around the stone and knew in a flash of intuition that it was Howl's magic. From the doorway streamed a long procession of harried witches and wizards, who spilled into the room as though they were chased by daemons. One of the foreigners rushed over to Nalir and snatched him into a tearful embrace, much to the red-haired apprentice's dismay. King Ferdinand greeted the new arrivals with a series of brisk orders, which many of the sorcerers flat out ignored. Some rushed over to the circle of Councilors who ringed round the glowing glass spire in the center of the room; but most milled about in confusion.

"Are you alright, Markl?" Theresa asked in concern, and the young wizard reached down to helped her up.

"I'm fine! What's going on Calcifer?" Markl demanded of the living flame as he cast his eyes about in consternation, trying to make sense of the mayhem. "Where's Howl?"

"He's coming! He'll be the last to come through the portal," Calcifer pointed with a tendril of fire at the twisting portal, out of which the otherwind escaped like a gale through an open window. As suddenly as it had come, the gateway to the otherworld trembled and winked out of existence. The fire daemon gave a chittering pop of absolute shock as Martha cried out in despair, looking equally crestfallen as the ruby in her hand went dark. Howl had not made it through.

"The star daemons!" Cal exclaimed in a panic.

"What!" The Wallmaker's apprentice cried in baffled dismay.

Suddenly the ground trembled and the shrieking intensified as a shadow fell over them. The obsidian hydra loomed over the golden shield like a living nightmare, raking the barrier with its claws. A shower of sparks showered them with fire and Theresa yanked him to her as Markl pulled his cloak over them to ward of the dripping fire. The shield fluctuated but held, thanks to the new magic being added to the barrier. But would it be enough?

"The monster's trying to get in!" The freckled girl squeaked as she clung to him in terror, her green eyes riveted on the beast above them.

It was then that the young wizard heard his uncles' voice. Casting his eyes about, Markl saw Barimus on a pile of cloaks nearby, his broken legs done up in rough splints. The Royal Wizard was white faced with pain but a torrent of words spilled from him, drowned by the King's shouting. The red wizard's golden eyes were on fire with fury as he jabbed his finger at the new arrivals. Peoter and Deiter were kneeling at his side, their normally playful features deadly serious as they fixed their rapt attention on their lord. The young wizard extricated himself from the red-haired girl and took off his cloak only to wrapped it around her. Sweeping up Theresa's garden hoe he forced it into her hands. Markl took her by the shoulders and looked into her eyes, compelling her back to her senses with his seriousness.

"This cloak is like the magic in your hoe, if you believe it will make you invisible and protect you from fire. If the barrier fails I want you and Martha to fly out of here as fast as you can. Do you understand me Theresa?"

"Yes," She whispered her large eyes solemn but brave. Then, as if it she were sure it was the last time she would see him, the young girl stood on her tip toes and kissed him on the cheek. Markl was stunned and stared after the freckled girl as she turning to flee toward her mistress. In the distance, Martha was towering among a flock of wizards trying to get them to cooperate. Markl ignored the sly look Calcifer was giving him as he snatched up Suliman's staff and hurried to his uncle amidst another shower of sparks from above.

"I don't care what it takes! Get them to bolster the shield!" Barimus snarled as Markl came up aside Peoter-Dieter. The red wizard was almost foaming, his eyes bright with pain and the kind of madness brought on by acute helplessness.

"Uncle, what can I do?" The Royal Wizard caught sight of his nephew and experienced a brief moment of lucidity as his eyes fell on Calcifer.

"Howl! Is he here?" Barimus cried as he caught a hold of the singed hem of Markl's tunic, shifting his eyes back and forth between the fire daemon and his brother's apprentice.

"He didn't make it through the portal," Cal replied lamely.

This seemed to unsettle the red wizard, who's face was already pinched with exertion and fear. The twins stood protectively over the Lord Councilor as the shield trembled again under the barrage of attacks from the daemon hydra outside. Suddenly, the pummeling stopped and it began to grow very dark as black ice surged up around the barrier, blocking out the sun. The daemon queen altered her tactics and made a brilliant decision; she did not have to break through the barrier to destroy the Wizards Council. She could kill them all easily by freezing them to death from the outside. But once they all were dead the daemons would be free to roam the country side and hell would be loose in the mortal world. The screams began anew as the temperature plummeted and Markl could see his breath.

"That's not good at all," Cal popped as he gazed at the shield over their heads.

But Barimus ignored the darkness outside, fixing Markl with an intense gaze. "You have to get the foreign witches and wizards to work together. We need every single ounce of magic to hold the shields against that beast. I don't care what you do, just get them to cooperate!"

He paused for a moment, seeming as though he were about to faint, but instead a weak smile flitting through the suffering that twisted his features."I'm proud of you Markl. You saved us."

The young man stared at his uncle for a moment, not sure of what to say in spite of the moment of warmth he felt.But Barimus decided for him and gave Markl a weak shove toward the distant crowd as he turned his attention back to the twins.

"Peoter, stay with Martha, Theresa, and the King. I order you to protect them no matter what. If the shield fails, get them out of here. Deiter, go with Markl and help him. Now get, before I pummel the lot of you with my wooden legs!"

"Forgive me, Lord Councilor," replied the wizard, who must have been Deiter, in a warm tenor that sounded like burnished copper, "But I'm afraid you need me more than Markl does. Captain Cyanine would be very angry with me if I left you to freeze."

And it was true; Barimus was shivering convulsively as frost began to coat the marble floor around him. But Markl did not stay to listen to them argue, Peoter pulled him away from his uncle towards the milling crowd near the glowing white spire in the middle of the room. The Wallmaker's son could clearly see King Ferdinand, who was hopping up and down, pointing wildly in all directions as Martha and Theresa argued heatedly with a group of witches. For a moment the Markl was impressed, it took a lot of gumption to stand before Martha's fury. But many of the group looked mad with terror as black snow and ice began falling from above. Apparently Nalir and his mother were on his Aunt's side, for they were pitted like a stone obelisk in the center of the discord. The other apprentices clung to one another in dismay, regarding their quarreling elders in abject shock from the sidelines.

"What should I do?" Markl whispered in dismay to Peoter, who let go of his arm as they drew near.

"Flatter them atrociously, appeal to their duty, threaten them, and if all else fail, scare the living hell out of them," Was the coppered haired wizard's reply.

The twin winked at him, his green eyes bright with mirth in spite of their dismal circumstances as he turned to regard Calcifer, "Do you think you could help him with that, little flame?"

"Who are you calling little!" Cal popped indignantly.

But Peoter didn't reply, he had turned and dived into the crowd, fighting his way toward the ruler of Ingary and the Herbalist. Markl's teeth chattered as the bone-chilling cold bit at him mercilessly. Outside it was almost summer and none of them were dressed for winter. They had to keep warm somehow and the young wizard began formulating a plan.

"Hey! Do you know fire spells?" He called at Ryden, who poked like a long reed out of the huddle of apprentices that huddled together for warmth. The apprentice nodded as Trissa and Hedera turned their faces to peer at him.

"Markl! You're alive!" The girls cried joyfully. They surged forward to meet him but faltered as they caught sight of Calcifer.

"He's a friend!" Markl all but screamed in impatience as he waved his free hand to get their attention, "Listen, I need you all to go and keep the witches and wizard feeding the spire warm. If they die of exposure the shield will fail. Cast fire spell, warming spells, whatever you can think of to keep them from freezing. Go, go, go!"

The young wizard pushed the apprentices towards the glowing spire. They hurried past him, obliviously glad to do anything but stand around in the increasingly arctic conditions.

"What should we do about them?" Markl asked Calcifer uncertainly as he gazed at the thick knot of witches and wizards ahead of them.

"Reason and flattery won't work with these guys," the little flame replied, "Howl had a horrible time trying to get them to even agree to come with us."

"Is father coming, Cal?" Markl's voice trembled.

"I don't know… He was right behind me. Something must have happened because all he could think about was getting to you," the fire daemon replied in a small voice.

Markl felt the taught knot of resentment in his heart, where he harbored the difficult emotions he felt for his foster father, loosen and dissolve. Howl was coming for him; and it gave him hope.

"Well, Barimus said we could do anything and Peoter said to scare them. Do you think we can do that?" Markl continued with renewed vigor and fixed his mind on their dire circumstances. Calcifer grinned toothily, his eyes going blank as he tinged a sooty black for a moment.

"Can I eat one of them?" The living flame asked ghoulishly.

"You may not!" The russet haired young man replied in mock consternation.

"Are you ready, Markl? You're not too tired are you?" Calcifer asked quietly.

"At this point it doesn't matter, Cal. We do what we must," the boy's voice was stern and resolved. He lifted Suliman's staff and smashed it against the ground with a sound that split the din like a thunder clap.

All eyes darted to the young wizard as Calcifer burst into a white blue column of flame, surrounding Markl in a glowing nimbus of fire that matched the living purple wind roared up around him. In the gloom caused by the dark ice that encased the shield, his light combined with the spire's and brought back the day. The young man's voice boomed in the silence that followed as the crowd drew back from the russet haired boy in a mixture of surprise and terror. Calcifer got their attention rather effectively.

"I am Markl Jenkins, the Wallmaker's apprentice, nephew of Royal Wizard Barimus and I speak in their stead! All able bodied witches and wizards will join the Council's circle, either to bolster the shield or to keep the cold at bay!"

"And if we refuse?" A bald wizard demanded through chattering teeth. The foreigner was quickly going blue in his extremities. He wore little in the way of clothing, obviously unaccustomed to cold.

"Do you want to freeze to death?" Markl replied heatedly and this seemed to give the man pause, "Then I suggest you _cooperate_."

As he spoke that final word the witches and wizards regarded the Wallmaker's son as though a spell had been lifted from them. Consent rippled through the crowd as they remembered the promise they had made to the Wizard Howl. They surged towards the gleaming glass spire. The Wallmaker's apprentice felt the change immediately and the impending doom of the barrier's collapse, which had settled like a stone in his stomach, lifted as the golden shield solidified. However, the freezing conditions remained. This was not a solution, they were only buying time. Markl sagged against Suliman's staff in despair as his aunt and Theresa hurried toward him.

"Barimus needs you, Martha. He's not doing too well," Markl replied mildly, displacing her concern with practiced efficiency.

The herbalist darted off at a half run, no longer trapped among a crowd of querulous wizards. Calcifer peered at the grey faced apprentice over his shoulder as Theresa patted him gently. All three of them jumped and the red-haired girl shrank behind him as King Ferdinand strode forward. As he grinned through his bristling moustache, the barrel-chested man pounded Markl on the back and then pumped his free hand up and down in congratulation, nearly rattling the young wizard apart.

"Excellent job, my boy!" The emperor of Ingary boomed as he let go and placed his hands on his hips, "The Royal Wizard himself couldn't have done better in getting those ruddy sorcerers motivated."

Peoter peered at Markl around the impressive king; the twin grinned and crossed his eyes at the ensuing patriotic speech the emperor began to spout. But the Wallmaker's son listened courteously; he had always been a polite boy. Ferdinand's prattle ceased as he paused for a breath of air. The young apprentice wilted under the thought of enduring more resplendent oration when the large man bent conspiratorially and whispered to Markl.

"By the way, what's the plan?" Ferdinand asked as he swept the black snow from his shoulders.

"Your majesty?" Markl asked in surprise.

"Never mind, I don't want to know. I don't understand magic in the slightest. But I have faith in your ability. You're the Wallmaker's apprentice and I know you'll figure something out! Well, I'm off to see how Barimus is fairing." With that the king strode off, and Peoter cast a helpless look at Markl as he hurried after his charge.

Howl's adopted son stared after the king completely at a loss. He suddenly understood why his father so loathed to work with any of the Council or the royalty of the capital. With a sinking feeling, Markl realized they were all counting on him, and he hadn't the slightest idea of what to do next.

"That's just like a king," Calcifer crackled nastily, doing his best to avoid the dampness that surrounded him, "All hot air, but when it comes to real work, they always foist it off on others."

Markl looked overhead and blinked rapidly, forcing the tears the threatened to fall into remission. The new reinforcements would tire eventually and even if some of the other Council members had regained their strength, eventually the well of their magic would all run dry. The shield would fail; there was no way to avoid that fate. Outside only a handful of the Wizard's Guard remained and only fortune knew how well they were fairing. The young apprentice was exhausted; he could not cast another spell even if he wanted to. At least it was growing warmer. But that was little consolation because it was still snowing.

They were trapped!

His despair must have shown on his face plainly because Theresa put her hand on his shoulder consolingly. He smiled at her weakly, trying not to let the terror he felt for her wellbeing show in his features. Once again he desperately wished Howl was with him, and regretted with a pang of guilt all the horrible things he had said to his father.

Suddenly, there was an ear-splitting crack and a torrent of ice and snow fell from the ceiling overhead, pelting them with frozen shards like glass. Screams filled the air as Markl grabbed Theresa to him. Just in the nick of time, she held open the patchwork cloak Sophie had made for the fire daemon. With a yelp Calcifer darted under the flame proof fabric and hid from the avalanche. They were dashed to the ground by the weight of the coal black frost that fell from above. Apparently trying to heat the inner shield was not without its consequences. But the snapping sound continued and the glass spire dimmed under Markl's othersight, plunging them all into darkness. It took him a moment to puzzle out what has happening. The revelation dawned on Wallmaker's apprentice with staggering horror. The ice barrier was contracting! Indeed, he watched as the barricade shudder and slowly shrink inward. The daemon queen was once again altering her strategy, most likely having sense the renewed efforts within the barrier.

She was going to crush them with the shield!

But in that moment of twilight doom a portal erupted like a whirling pool of blue and purple light in the midst of the black snow. Through it rose a tall woman clad in a white smock far too small for her lanky body; her impossibly long hair was silver as the moon and tangled about her in the otherwind. It was strange, because she looked just like Sophie. But something was wrong with her hands, which were encased in a shining black like they were made of glass. The apprentice realized in that moment that she was a daemon. He was about to raise the alarm when behind the chimera rose the wizard Howl. Markl felt his heart leap in his chest.

The Wallmaker carried Sophie in his arms.


	10. Chapter 10: End's Beginning

**Twilight Doom: Part III of the Wallmaker Saga**

**Chapter 10: End's Beginning**

From the frying pan straight into the fire.

That was Sophie's first thought as she stared up at the swiftly shrinking golden dome. At first the hatter's daughter had no idea where she was. It took her a moment to realize it had turned dark as night because of the black ice that coated it in its entirety. In the distance she could see a huge crystal obelisk that flickered dimly, casting the only light in the thick frozen darkness of this strange place. In her othersight the sorceress of silver flame could see the many witches and wizards that huddled in the gloom, outlined in a rough circle by their burning magic. In a flash of intuition she knew that most were members of the Ingarian Wizard's Council. That meant they were somewhere in the Kingsbury Palace. With a crushing sense of doom, she understood that the magic of the sorcerers and sorceresses around the glowing spire were the only thing keeping them from being crushed to death in the twilight gloom.

So much had happened while she was in the beyond.

The barrier gave a hideous shriek as it constricted inward under the powerful force of the frost outside. The moan sounded like claws raked across a stone. Confused and frightened by the distant screams and unfamiliar setting, the silver sorceress clung involuntarily to her husband. Howl had not put her down, nor did he give any indication that he would. The Wallmaker was staring at the darkness overhead with intense seriousness, although his features were calm and resolved. There was no fear in him in that moment, only a determination so strong it was tangible. Because of their closeness, which extended through many levels beyond mere physicality, Sophie could feel the vast expanse of the magic that the wizard Howl gathered within. In that moment the brown-eyed mother caught sight of her daughter, who was a few steps beyond her father. The expression on Drie's face was uncanny, a mixture of horror and understanding as she gazed upwards.

It was then that Howl set on Sophie on her feet and she sank to her ankles in the cold black snow that coated the vast chamber.

"Mother! Father!" Someone shouted in the darkness and the Wallmaker's wife was almost knocked from her feet as Markl scrambled through the frozen gloom and tackled her. Sophie fell back against Howl, whose face cleared with joy as he stooped to wrap his arms around them both. Breathless with joy, the silver witch and the Wallmaker crushed her eldest son to them.

"Master Howl, your hair!" Markl squeaked through the intensity of his father's embrace, looking in concern at the silver that peppered the temples of the handsome man's raven hair.

"It's no matter, Markl. I can dye it back!" Howl laughed his blue eyes bright with elation as he beamed down at their eldest son. Suddenly a glowing point of red-yellow light swooped around them like a shooting star.

"Sophie! I knew it! I knew you were alive!" Calcifer exulted as he came to hover above them. Following closely in the fire daemon's wake was a red-haired girl wrapped in the patchwork cloak the silver sorceress made for Markl's thirteenth birthday. Seeing them reunited, Theresa clapped her hands and jumped up and down with unfettered delight.

But the fire daemon's mood shifted quickly as his eyes fell upon Dierdre, who stood partly aside with a hesitant expression on her face. The child-woman stood barefoot in the snow and gave no indication she feel the cold. The little flame fluttered in shock for a moment and then he darkened to a menacing black purple. Drie drew back, an enigmatic expression on her face as she regarded the living flame. But Howl let go of his family. In a swift moment he carefully caught Cal into his hands and brought the daemon close to his face just at the barrier overhead gave another mournful screech. The sound seemed to sober the former star and the little flame was drawn from his fierceness by Howl's voice.

"She is my daughter," the Wallmaker spoke convincingly and the fire daemon gave a shocked sputter. But the wizard continued in spite of his best friend's consternation, "Never mind that, Calcifer, right now I need your help."

The little flame looked at him with large eyes, shifting his gaze from the stranger back to the lanky wizard before he nodded. "Take care of your mother, Markl. Drie, would you come with me please?"

The tall half-daemon followed after her father wordlessly as he walked with Calcifer in his hands towards the approaching barrier.

"Wait! Master Howl!" Markl cried out and tried to chase after his father, but Sophie held him back. Normally she would have vehemently protested being left behind in any circumstances. However, a powerful sense of foreboding had flooded her and she knew she must stay behind for the sake of her family.

"Let him go, Markl," His mother spoke softly as she buried her face in the back of the young man's shirt, which was damp with snow. She shivered convulsively, whether from the cold of from the vision it was unclear.

"Are you cold, Mrs. Jenkins?" Theresa asked in concern and without hesitating the young healer swept off Markl's cloak and wrapped it around the silver sorceress.

"Thank you, Theresa," Sophie smiled at the herbalist's apprentice, then sobered for a moment as she realized what the girl's presence implied, "Is my sister here?"

"Mistress Martha is with Master Barimus. He's in a bad way, Lady Sophie. He broke both his legs."

"Dear gods, is he alright?" Sophie gasped in horror, but was distracted from her worry by Markl's voice.

"Who is that… that creature, mother?" the russet haired boy asked haltingly, "Master Howl said…"

Markl's face was fractured by uncertainty and conflicting emotions and the brown-eyed woman was about to speak sharply. But she hesitated when she caught sight of Suliman's stick in her boy's grip. It was then that she really took a look up at the young wizard, clearly seeing the grief and exhaustion plain on his face. Her little boy had grown up a great deal since last she had seen him. Looking off into the distance, Sophie caught sight of Calcifer's light. Near him she picked out the dim sapphire silhouettes of her husband and daughter in her othersight.

"Her name is Deirdre, she is my daughter and Akarshan's twin. That means she is your sister, Markl."

"But… She's a…" The young wizard continued in alarm.

However, his words were cut off as a brilliant flash of blue light erupted in the distance. The howling gale of otherwind ripped like a great whirlwind through the shield room, sweeping up the black snow in eddies of power. Markl half stepped in front of his mother protectively, but she pushed him aside, peering into the blinding light around the cracks of her fingers. Something akin to a thunderclap rocked the chamber as blue lightening cascaded from where Sophie could see Howl. He was on fire with familiar radiant cerulean flames. The lanky wizard was bent with furious concentration as he pushed against the shield wall with all his might. Next to him was Drie, who was a perfect mirror of her father's posture.

All of a sudden, the nerve-racking groaning of the barrier's constriction ceased, settling the shield room into an eerie silence.

Instantly, the glass spire in the center of the chamber erupted into incandescent brightness, returning the light of day. Cheers of hope echoed through the room and the silver sorceress could feel the barrier overhead solidifying as it regained its power. Casting her eyes about, Sophie caught sight of a flash of red in the dark snow in the distance. In that moment Martha lifted her head from the prone form she held in her arms and her green eyes connect with her sister's. Sophie heard the royal wizard triumphant shout as clearly as though he were sitting right next to her.

But Howl was not finished yet.

Calcifer's blue fire cascaded up the far wall like a great blazing inferno. The Wallmaker's wife felt the searing heat as she turned her eyes back to her husband and daughter. Water and bits of liquefying frost rained down on them from above in the furious heat that thawed their prison. The snow beneath her feet began to melt. The black ice coating the dome around the wizard Howl and Drie thinned and dissolved, letting in brilliant shafts of light from the sky outside. But the daylight was obscured once more and Theresa screamed as the insidious obsidian hydra loomed beyond the shield. Sophie could clearly see the great beast the deamon queen had become. The silver sorceress gaped up at the twisted being and realized why Howl had been desperate to return to the mortal world. But in that moment Drie's form seemed to darken and waver, as though she were no longer solid.

Sophie shifted her eyes away from the thing that had once been Mrs. Danna and she stared at her daughter with her othersight. Fear and horror warred within her heart as she watched the child-woman loose all physicality and surge upwards into the golden barrier. The girl's mother recoiled as mad terror gripped her like the chilly ice in which she stood. The brown-eyed witch recognized the empty woman's daemon form and recalled how it had erupted from her daughter's shadow in the palace's Council Chamber. The revelation was terrible by the fact that somehow Sophie knew that the empty woman no longer resided inside of Drie. Her daughter had become the daemon; how this had happened the witch did not know.

Paralyzed by her dismay, the silver sorceress watched as Drie became a great black rectangle. The doorway seemed to absorb all light, showing plainly in the brilliant nimbus that surrounded the wizard Howl. He drew back from the forming portal for only a moment, waiting like a coiled spring. It split for a fraction of a second, creating a gateway to the world outside and yellow-black flames rushed in from the beyond. But Howl held out his hand and the fire split before his magic like water flowing around an immovable stone.

In that moment the Wallmaker and Calcifer surged forward, escaping beyond the inner barrier of the golden shield.

xXx

Howl stalked forward through the firestorm, his cobalt eyes fixed with furious hatred on the enormous black creature before him.

As the obsidian hydra cut off its conflagration the hideous creature reared up its many heads as it furled membraned wings, bellowing a challenge to the sky. The rubble around the wizard and the fire daemon vibrated and trembled. The deafening chorus of its gruesome warbling seemed to herald the end of all things. The beast had grown large and powerful on the death and suffering it had inflicted upon Kingsburry. But the Wallmaker knew that appearances could be deceiving and he looked beyond the physicality of the mortal world. The many daemons that made up the hydra's twisting form glittered like crimson lights in the wizard's othersight. But at its heart, burning like a point of twisting black and purple fire was the daemon queen, mother and ruler of the horde of spirits. They wrapped around her in a great cloak of enraged magic, and she road their power like war horse. They were the source of her magic and also her weakness. Because she commanded it, the creature towered over the Wallmaker, almost as large as his flying castle.

But the raven-haired wizard was not afraid; his mind was fixed with blazing intensity on a single thought: retribution.

The daemon queen had crushed half of Ingarian capital; she had murdered scores of witches and wizards. She had hurt his family, stolen away his daughter only to return her cursed, and if only for a moment, she had killed his wife. But, why? The lack of reason behind the cold healer's action enraged Howl. The lanky wizard and his best friend had merged shortly after halting the golden dome and together they burned like a single flame. Calcifer surged through his thoughts like a smoldering brand, echoing his decision. Together they agreed that what the cold healer had done was unforgivable!

The Wallmaker had not felt the blinding sense of rage that consumed him in that moment for a long time. It filled him with white hot magic that should have been beyond even his power. The last time he remembered feeling this way was during the Mardan War. It was the same limitless magic that had seized him as he took his bird-like form to protect their home in Chipping Market from the bombs. The wizard gave into the oblivion of the force and he slipped once more beyond humanity. In a form that took him between worlds, through the raw intensity of his emotions, the wizard Howl tapped into the vast reservoir beyond the indigo veil. Perhaps the hydra felt his building power, because it faltered. Had he been thinking more clearly, the Wallmaker may have recognized the conflicting emotions that surfaced within the monster. But the blue-eyed sorcerer was beyond perception at that moment.

The moment of hesitation was the daemon queen's downfall.

The wizard Howl, last of the Wallmaker's, surged forward on navy wings that trailed indigo-violet fire like a great sapphire phoenix. The obsidian hydra screeched and snapped at him with its needled heads, but their darting attacks met the impenetrable barrier of blue star fire. Yellow-black fire poured around the feathered daemon-man, but its heat never reached him. With eyes that saw beyond the physical realm, Howl reached out with taloned hands and tore aside the daemons that drew up around the retreating monster. Within his grasp the twisting spirits screeched treacherously as they erupted into flames from the intensity of his banishing magic. As they crumbled into ash, the daemons were exiled once more into the scorched plains beyond the Dull Wall.

_Howl…_ Somewhere in the distance a voice called for him. But the wizard was beyond mortal language at that moment.

Like the leaves of some great poisonous bloom, the Wallmaker peeled away the layers of shrinking and wailing shades, growing ever closer to the core of the beast. With an agonized shudder, the crimson fog that had once acted as a protective cloak dissipated from around the daemon queen. The woeful creature collapsed into a huddled ball, clutching at a tiny point of flickering obsidian-sapphire fire that glowed within the trembling light of its hands.

Hatred gripped his mind, making the Wallmaker irrational. He and Calcifer retaliated ruthlessly, pursuing the prone point of black light that cowered before them. With a triumphant cry, the daemon-wizard called up a lance of incandescent blue fire and was about to destroy the being when an enormous pulse of magic tore him back into the mortal realm. Magic splintered around the broken rubble of what had once been the shield chamber, showing the lanky man with golden sparks.

_HOWL!_ The voice was deafening this time and it pierced the fury that clouded his mind.

Casting his eyes at over his shoulder, reason returned to the Wallmaker as he realized in horror that the inner shield had shattered. Looking overhead with abject dismay, the wizard watched as the golden barrier faded like a dream from the sky above. In a moment of excruciating pain, he and Calcifer separated as the handsome man returned to his human form in a rustling whirl of fading indigo feathers. Bewildered, the wizard Howl blinked with mortal eyes and gazed down at the pitiful figure that cringed in the ruins before him.

She was almost human, save for the thin threads of two daemons she clutched desperately in her hands. Turning her battered face to regard him, the woman stared at Howl with burning grey eyes frenzied by fear and loathing. The Wallmaker realized all at once that she was completely insane and her madness clouded about her like a contagious disease. But it was not from this that Howl recoiled in horror. He recognized her face through the incensed hatred that twisted her features. As he stared at her, Mrs. Danna spat at his feet. Calcifer, who had fluttered weakly about his friend in the disorienting aftermath of their disjointing, crackled in rage. Howl gathered the fire daemon into his hands before the living flame could streak forward.

"Let me go, Howl!" Calcifer snarled, going black as night in his wrath. He twisted in the Wallmaker's hands like a living bonfire of burning hate, "I'm going to eat her!"

The cold woman regarded the former shooting star with fearless defiance in spite of the fact that she no longer had any power to defend herself. But the tall wizard held fast to his best friend, oblivious to the heat of his fire as he remembered things from a childhood he strove desperately to forget. Suliman had a younger sister, born magicless to a family renowned for their powers. In a clouded haze, Howl remembered a tall woman dressed always in green; she was a healer, and had cared for him once while he was very sick. She married a lesser magician named Alistair Danna. He was one of the weaker wizard who died at the hands of his uncle Agyrus in the time of the Wallbreaking. The revelation that rushed through the Wallmaker left him weak. He had almost killed the sister of the woman he half counted as his mother!

"Earin?" Howl spoke in a soft voice, half unsure of the name that fell unbidden from his lips.

Mrs. Danna gave a violent start as though he had slapped her, going absolutely white with shock. It was as though hearing her name drew the cold woman out of the madness in which she had completely immersed herself. She began to tremble violently. As she stared at the Wallmaker, the former daemon queen warred with herself as her a myriad of contradictory emotions crossed her features: most chiefly rage and regret.

But just as Howl's memories explained nothing, neither would Suliman's younger sister. With the final dregs of magic that reverberated in her soul, the former healer flickered like smoke and faded beyond the indigo veil.

xXx

The moment after the Wallmaker passed through the doorway, the black rectangle fell away from the golden dome like a cascade of pitch-black water.

Sophie rushed forward to her daughter. Deirdre rematerialized as the viscous ooze collected like quicksilver and solidified into the tall child-woman. The half-daemon shivered convulsively, although not from cold as she struggled to her knees. The silver sorceress wrapped Drie in her son's cloak, noting with a dismayed frown the expanse of pale leg that showed beneath her tiny white smock. In her peripheral vision the brown-eyed mother watched Theresa and Markl approached cautiously as she rubbed her daughter's shoulders vigorously. Suddenly Martha loomed up over her sister, appearing out of the melting snow like a living statue. The herbalist's normally stoic face was red and streaked with tears, which cut through a grey ash that smeared her normally pale skin. Sophie looked up at her youngest sibling and straightened, sweeping the melting black ice from her apron with a brisk motion.

"Aren't you going to hug me, Martha?" Sophie asked with a smile.

The herbalist rushed forward and crushed her sister in an embrace that might have cracked her ribs. The silver sorceress couldn't help but mop at her sister's face with the edge of her apron and the dark haired woman batted in irritation at her sister's ministrations. In the distance Sophie could hear Barimus' tenor, he was yelling at someone. A flustered copper-haired wizard in a red uniform slid to a halt next to Martha as King Ferdinand came up along side of the group.

"Lady Sophie! Good to see you!" Boomed the ruler of Ingary, "I can't tell you how happy I am to know that the Wallmaker is here. He'll trounce that dragon out there, I'm sure of it!"

Almost as though on cue, a soundless burst of blue fire cast its light through the melted breech of the black ice outside.

"Woo! What was that?" The bristled-bearded emperor exclaimed.

Suddenly Drie stood bolt upright, giving all of them a fright as she clutched Markl's cloak around her, horror plain on her face. Peoter drew back from the child-woman as a dangerous expression replaced his usual mirth, but Markl stayed him by gripping the wizard's arm.

"Eh? Who's this?" Ferdinand asked briskly, bending slightly from the waist to regard the tall woman.

"What is it, Dierdre?" Sophie asked, turning from Martha.

But the silver sorceress' daughter answered them with a blood-curdling scream of agony. As she fell writhing into the melting snow, the girl lost her grip on her human form. She fluctuated between the trembling liquid of her daemon shape as she clawed at the ground with gleaming jet talons.

"By the Gods!" Ruler of Ingary exclaimed in horror as he stumbled backwards. Peoter deftly stepped in front of his king as green fire enveloped his hands.

"Daemon!" Martha screamed and yanked Theresa away from the thrashing creature.

But Sophie was on her knees next to the unstable chimera, desperately trying to hold her daughter and assuage her pain. Markl barred the way as Peoter made ready to attack as the half-daemon twisted in the silver sorceress' arms with inhuman strength. The child-woman's voice warbled in a metallic multilevel chorus, causing every hair on their bodies to stand on end.

"She's my daughter!" Sophie cried helplessly, "Markl! Help me! Drie? Tell me what's wrong?"

But in her agony, the girl lashed out blindly, cutting her mother's shoulder with her knife like claws. The wound bled red blood, which seemed to frenzy Dierdre further. Markl surged forward and dragged Sophie away from the half-daemon as it staggered to its feet clutching at its head, keening madly. Dieter came up along side his twin, his face clouded with confusion. All eyes were on the chimera as she crashed into the golden barrier, raking at it with her talons as golden sparks flew about them.

"Don't hurt her!" The silver sorceress screamed as she slipped and struggled, thwarted by both ice and the hold of her eldest son. The twin wizards cast a sharp look at the Wallmaker's wife, and the green fire in their hands extinguished. No one moved.

"Make him stop!" Deirdre screeched in a voice not her own, "He's killing us!"

With a flash of intuition Sophie finally understood. She batted in distraction at the hands of Martha and her assistant, who were trying to staunch the bleeding from the slash on her shoulder. The silver sorceress tried called out to her husband in a voice that could only be heard by a different kind of ear. But the echoes of her cry resounded back to her, deflected by the golden dome that trapped them. She tried again, but Drie continued to scream. Mad with fear for her daughter's life, the brown-eyed mother caught sight of Suliman's staff in the snow where Markl had dropped it.

Ripping herself from Markl's grasp, the silver sorceress snatched the stick out of the ice and used it to haul herself upright in the snow. Slamming the staff onto the ground, her voice roared like a hundred thunderclaps, amplified by the magic that teemed within the ancient artifact. The sound was deafening to all those with the gift and it reverberated around the chamber like one of the voices of the thousand gods. The glass spire vibrated dangerously under the intensity of the magic trapped within the dome, and as though it were destined to do so, the crystal obelisk cracked in two and went dark. With an expression of absolute horror, Sophie turned her eyes skyward only to watch the golden shield dissolve. But as the dome fell, it released the witch's silent cry.

In that moment Deirdre silenced and collapsed into the melting snow.

**To be continued in _The Daemon Wars: Part IV of the Wallmaker Saga_**

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Sorry everyone, but I'm going to disappear for a while. I have a month left of school and I need to focus on gradating and getting a job! . But you know that I'll be back and posting like mad as soon as class is finished. I'm dedicated to this story and I will finish it, that I promise. Thank you so very much for reading and for being patient with me!

Lady Librarian


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